


All Mine

by y3llowdaisi3s



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, HP: EWE, Humiliation, Pirate Sex, Swordplay (literally)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:05:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 29,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/y3llowdaisi3s/pseuds/y3llowdaisi3s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione, the HBIC at her law firm, likes to be in control. So when she attends a Halloween party and has a night of anonymous passionate sex where she is definitely not in control, she can't understand why, for the week afterwards, she fantasizes about it. But she's determined to figure out who her mystery partner was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : I do not own anything you recognise, which includes all the Harry Potter stuff and some Ally McBeal dialogue. Oh, and the title of this is from some song about obsession.  
> Completed fic written for kink-bigbang on LJ.  
> This was crazy and took me forever. I’ve rewritten the last chapter several times. I had the first four completed months ago, but that last chapter, I just couldn’t decide how to end it. This isn’t what the original idea was, but I think I like this better. I want to thank tygermine for being my first fandom friend and holding my hand through my first smut scene [this is some of the first smut I’ve ever written] and beta reading. I want to thank jasperdarkangel for being an alpha and helping me with the ending. Please enjoy.

**Monday Morning**

_He was everywhere. He had her up against the wall, kissing down her jaw. His scent was everywhere. They were still fully clothed, masks still on from the party. His mouth was on hers, tongues fighting for dominance, her nipping at his lips, he caressing her tongue. It was hot, it was steamy, and they weren’t even fucking yet!_

_She had her legs wrapped around his torso, ankles locked around him beneath his cape. His hands were raising her short dress, slowly trailing up her thighs. With one hand he held onto her back and with the other he pushed aside her knickers and started fingering her cunt._

_“You’re so wet for me.”_

_Hermione could barely hear him, let alone speak. All she could hear was the thud-thud-thud of her heart beating against her chest. She tries to grab at his clothes, pull off his mask, take off his belt, anything. The shadows downcast on him making him look like a dark avenger. She can’t tell who he is and she almost doesn’t care. She just wants the ache in her core to be taken care of. She makes to grab his belt but he quickly grabs both her wrists and holds them above her head._

_His lips were nuzzling against her neck; he wants a response so he bites her ear. “I said, you’re so wet for me,” he rasps. Hermione is so focused on the feel of him that his voice doesn’t register._

_He grinds against her with every word, rubbing against her clit, and she isn’t sure if she’s ever felt this impatient before. She manages to gasp out “Y-yes. I’m wet for you.” And then proceeds to buck against the thick rod she feels; not the sword that came with his Zorro costume, but the thick, delicious flesh in his dark trousers. She makes another attempt to reach for him, but his hold is strong and steady. She glares at him, “What are you going to do about it?”_

Thrust – _“Such insolence”_ – thrust – _He nips at her collarbone, “Needs to be taught a lesson.”_

_His mouth nips and sucks demandingly, back up to her lips and Hermione is slowly being driven mad. She bites at his jaw and tries to maneuver herself to a better angle to feel his cock._

_Snappishly, he stops thrusting against her and scowls at her. “No, you don’t deserve a reward.”_

_Suddenly, he drops her to her feet, twists her around and throws her up against the wall with her arms barely softening the blow for her chest. His cock now nestles between her arse cheeks and she tries to rub against him._

_With a hand splayed open between her shoulder blades, he pushes her further into the wall. “Stop that!”_

–SMACK–

_The sound of the impact was worse than the actual soft slap that he gives her bum, “I don’t want to punish you… yet.”_

_His words cause a shudder to go up her spine. Next thing she knows, he’s pulling her dress up above her hips and pulling her drenched knickers down to her knees._

_She hears a clatter in the distance and it’s like a waterfall washes over her. She realizes where they are – a coat closet in an upscale hotel that one of her clients are hosting a Halloween Masquerade Ball in._

_Her legs are bare, her arse and pussy are on display. Without the constant stimulation of his hardness against her, she starts to struggle. The situation is not to her liking, and suddenly she does not want to play this game anymore. She’s Hermione Granger, and Hermione Granger only fucks in coat closets when it’s on her terms and this is most definitely not the case now._

–SMACK–

_He slaps her arse once more, but this time it really smarts. He starts to soothe the cheek he’s marked until he’s playing with her wet folds, spreading her juices. With his other hand, he slowly moves up her back to push aside her hair and licks at her neck._

_“Is there a reason you’re changing your mind?” He rasps._

_She snorts at his question. “Of course there’s a bloody reason!” She screeches. “We’ve been in this closet for half an hour and you still haven’t_ FUCKED _me.” She bucks back to punctuate the statement._

_While pulling his fingers away from her, he chuckles. He chuckles! She hears him licking his fingers and humming in pleasure._

_“So very tasty. So very feisty.” He brings one hand back down to hold her at her hip and starts trailing light kisses up her neck, dragging his tongue, tasting her. “Is that what you want? For me to FUCK,” he pivots his hips, “you?”_

_She shrieks at the feel of his cock rubbing on her swollen pussy. She is slowly becoming delirious. His other hand is now between her and the wall and caressing her right breast, teasing her nipple. It’s maddening._

–THRUST–

_“What do you want?”_

_Through the daze, she quickly realises the game he's playing at. Her thoughts went from “fuck me, fuck me, just fuck me already,” to “Oh, this is a power play if I ever saw one. Well, let me tell you buddy, I am the queen bee! Head bitch in charge, right here! I eat men like you for breakfast. I throw men like you out like yesterday’s trash. I’ll make a meal out of –“_

THRUST– _“I’m”_ –THRUST– _“losing”_ –THRUST– _“my”_ –THRUST– _“patience.”_

_The daze returns; his prick rubbing against her clit in such a delicious way. “I want you to FUCK me!”_

_“Good girl.” He lines himself up to give it to her good and hard –_

“Miss Granger, there’s a Miss Allaway waiting to see you. She had a meeting scheduled for nine, and it’s already a quarter past.”

Hermione jumped up, startled by the intrusion. “Oh, right, thank you Roger.” She stood there rigidly. “Also, I told you to call me Hermione.” She shook her head trying to get rid of the sweet memory. “Please escort her to the conference room and offer her some tea. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Oh, and notify Blaise as well, please.”

“OK, Hermione.” Roger quickly penned an inter-office memo and sent it on its way. “Are you alright? You seem kind of out of it?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as he assessed at her.

“Hmm? Oh yes, I’m fine Roger.” Hermione tried to will the flush that she knew was creeping up her neck and cheeks. “Now go help Miss Allaway and make sure that I have the case notes for the Dunbar-Pritchard case by lunch.”

After giving her assistant/secretary/bitch boy– Ron’s words, not her own– instructions, she dashed down the hall to the lavatory to freshen up and splash some cold water on her flushed face. Since the Halloween party last weekend, the coat closet was never a far off thought.

When she was at the Burrow on Sunday she had overheard Fleur telling her children if they continued to misbehave, she would punish them. Hermione’s inner muscles had instantly clenched upon hearing those words. She had to excuse herself from the table quickly and rush off to the loo.

She wasn’t able to orgasm though – and not for a lack of trying either. She had stayed in the restroom for as long as she could get away with and tried to diddle herself to completion. She had tried for ten minutes! When she realised an orgasm was not forthcoming, she washed her hands and face off before returning to the kitchen and hurriedly made her excuses – _I’m not feeling very well; Why yes, I do feel flushed; No Mrs Weasley, I should be fine after a kip_ – so that she could return to her flat and play with Spartacus, her 8” All American dildo, hoping that would get her off.

But no… even after an hour of frigging in the comfort of her own bed, bliss still eluded her. When she had finally given up and took a shower, she had even tried the old shower-head trick, and she had an–small, tiny, little, miniscule, it barely even registered– orgasm, but she hardly thought it should count!

And here she was, in the unisex loo of Madley & Baddock, staring at the mirror with the sink running, contemplating her sex life.

A cough sounded from her right, “Granger, you want to move out of the way and let a bloke get to the soap?” Draco Malfoy said, all the while smirking at her.

Hermione loathed that smirk, and normally would have responded with the typical hatred it mustered, but she was rather frustrated! Sexually frustrated! She ignored him and washed her hands and splashed some water on her face, grabbed her lip gloss from her bag to reapply it, and ran her fingers through her hair. When she felt she had adequately primped and hindered Malfoy, she strutted out the loo, down the hallway, to the conference room.


	2. Chapter 2

The meeting with Miss Allaway was a wash. She was barely paying attention. Fortunately, she had read the case notes and made sure that Blaise Zabini had first chair. She just needed to be there to make sure the firm would win the case for one of their oldest clients– in age, as well as time in a client-litigation relationship.

On the other side of the table, Anthony Goldstein, the opposing counsel, was representing the mediwitch Miss Allaway apparently had grievances with.

Blaise was paying close attention and was asking all the right questions to see if there was a legitimate case. Hermione tried to concentrate – to keep her thoughts off last Saturday – but the whole thing seemed like a joke. She was suing the woman because her breasts were real, no magic involved!

She tried to show some interest and pay attention, honestly, she really did try, but her first attempt was in vain, all she could do was stare at the bookshelves behind Anthony and see if there was a better way to organize the legal tomes. It appeared they were already arranged by subject and then alphabetically by author’s last name, which was precisely how she would have done it.

The snicker from Anthony drew Hermione’s attention back to the room at large. Miss Allaway was going over her suit. “She’s very hard to shop for.”

“Your sister?” he interjected, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, my sister! She has everything. The only thing I knew she wanted was nicer breasts. She didn’t like hers. She thought they were small and unshapely.”

Hermione rolled her eyes behind the folder containing the case file. She couldn’t believe the firm was paying her to listen to this tripe. It wasn’t helping as a distraction in the slightest. She started to doodle in the margins of her notes while glaring at Anthony, who continued to question her client. She didn’t know what he was saying, because let’s face it, she had more pleasurable things on the mind, but it was her job to intimidate the defendant, and she wasn’t Hermione Granger if she couldn’t intimidate a measly Ravenclaw.

“I went to Healer Naumov, he had been recommended. We discussed the importance of them feeling natural. This was a priority. My sister is a _very_ natural woman. Scars give her the heebie-jeebies." She shuddered, "So, he says, let me show you an example of my work. He calls in his Mediwitch. Her,” Miss Allaway pointed to the lady across the table from them. “She unveils, she’s full, soft, without a hint of a blemish. I almost signed up and my breasts are beyond reproach.”

“And you’re claiming you paid the Healer based…”

“Yes, based on her false implants. And what does my sister get? These hard little petrified lumps! She jumps rope, they don’t even move. And the scars?" She scoffed. "My uncle slits his wrists with more finesse. And then I find out she doesn’t have implants at all. Hers are _real_. The total fraud.”

Hermione couldn’t help it. She had to tune this out; otherwise she’d be on the floor laughing; especially when Anthony asked why she was suing Miss Eszes instead of the Healer. _He’s an empty pocket in another jurisdiction and she’s collectible._ She decided she’d let Blaise handle this and focused on her doodles instead, but only after sending Anthony another glare first.

Unfortunately the attempt at distracting herself was just not working. It was either pay attention to the disposition going on– which she couldn’t do, less she give herself away by laughing like a hyena– or relive Saturday. Neither was working very well for her, her fingers were starting to fidget and she began squirming in her seat. She looked to Blaise and wondered if it was him in the Zorro costume. He seemed like the kind of guy to like carrying a sword.

She was almost drooling at the thought of being fucked against the conference table, audience be damned, when Blaise started questioning the mediwitch.

“Miss Eszes, you knew Healer Naumov was using you as an example of his work.”

She really couldn’t be bothered with this; she knew there was a case of misrepresentation of sales of goods. So instead she tried reciting the twelve uses of Dragon’s blood, but that only lead to thoughts of her – yes, she had thusly decided to claim him as her own, and let’s face it, Zorro is a very lame name – masked man. She tried naming the periodic table, thinking that since it’s a lot longer than the uses of Dragon’s blood, and it’s something she should have learned in Muggle Secondary school– which she did not attend– it would actually require a lot of thought. Did it work? No. She made it to terbium when she realised there were only twenty elements left. Twenty!

Luckily, before she could interrupt this disposition and start one of her own on Blaise, they called an end to the meeting.

And just like a few hours earlier, she rushed off to the loo. She was in front of the mirror again, with the sink running, and all she could think about was the Halloween party.

* * *

Hermione walked up the steps of The Gwydion, a posh hotel that was very out of place along the coast of Cornwall. Granted, no muggle could tell that it existed, but there it was situated between a warehouse and a decrepit office building, right along the harbor, for anyone– well anyone with magical blood– to see.

When she reached the entrance, the Valet opened the door for her– all the while fucking her with his eyes. The looks he gave her sent a chill down her spine; she loved the power she had over men. Sure, when she was younger, she didn’t give a hide about her looks– school was her number one priority, after all, just ask Ronald Weasley. But now, with no education to hold her back; at the top of her field, the number one barrister at the firm, a client list that contained the crème de la crème of wizarding society, she could take the time to look her best.

And boy was her best drool-worthy. Today, her riotous curls were straight and sleek. She may not have grown much, possibly only an inch in the five years since she left Hogwarts, but her curves definitely came in. Hermione was a knock-out and she knew it. And by the way the Concierge was eyeing her while she walked through the lobby, she didn’t need a reminder. Men reminded her of the power she had every day.

Before entering the ballroom, Hermione rushed to the ladies’ for a final check of her costume. She wanted it to be perfect. The Falmouth Falcons were hosting the lavish event, and since she was the one who brought them to the firm, it was important that she make a good impression.

_When she went into Madam Malkin’s and told them she was going to a masquerade, she was surprised with how few costumes they had available. The few that they did have were too gaudy, too slutty, or just too unsightly to wear to this type of event. She quickly left and tried a small shop that was hidden in Knockturn Alley._

_Her jaw dropped when she entered the store and she was just about to run away when a woman with the sweetest voice welcomed her to the Smitten Kitten. She tried to will the blush away from her cheeks as she turned to the direction the tinkling sound came from and smiled at the small pixie woman._

_“How can I help you, dearie?”_

_“Oh, um, I’m not sure I’m in the right place.” Hermione desperately tried not to stutter and just barely managed to keep her voice even. “I was just at Madam Malkin’s and they didn’t have what I needed so they sent me here, you see.”_

_The pixie woman, Hermione decided to refer as Tink, nodded. “So a costume, I take it? Well, we are a tad limited on our selection, but what is it that you need?”_

_She decided a look around the store may be worth it now. She did spaz out fairly quickly when she entered and Tink deserved more than a cursory glance. While the store did hold some, questionable paraphernalia, it also housed some clothing racks in the corner; and she did spy a couple masquerade looking masks next to those, other, kinds of masks._

_“Well, I’m supposed to be attending a Masquerade Ball this Saturday. A major client of our firm is throwing it, and everyone I work with and plenty of our other clients will be there,” Hermione said, while walking towards the other end of the store. It looked promising._

_Tink was sizing Hermione up and down. “Let me guess, you’re the professional woman who wants to let loose, especially when no one will know who you are?”_

_Hermione could only nod, not fully listening. She found a beautiful mini-dress hidden behind some skankier pieces. “You definitely have the legs for that. And I have just the mask.”_

Looking at herself in the mirror, Hermione knew Tink was right. She could tell why every man she walked by thus far couldn’t take their eyes off of her. She was a bombshell. For a second, she had second thoughts about the costume and wearing it in front of all her peers, but she dismissed it just as fast as the thought appeared. She straightened her hair in anticipation for this evening, and knew that if her trademark curls were visible in any capacity, she would be spotted in a heartbeat.

The dress she wore was a black and gray combination of silk and velvet. While it completely covered her top half – long sleeves, up to the neck, a hood – the bittom half barely went past mid-thigh. The back had a nice bow detail that gave it some femininity. There was a good six inches of skin showing before her black thigh-high stockings started. She completed the outfit with five inch gray Mary Jane stilettos and a black and gray mask that covered most of her face. She was a beautiful vigilante.

She did a final spin-around while looking at the mirror, fluffed out her hair a bit, reapplied her lip gloss, and proceeded to join the merry-makers in the ballroom.


	3. Chapter 3

A soft masculine voice knocked her out of memory lane, again, “Hermione, you’re holding up the soap there.”

Hermione jumped as she saw Ernie McMillan in the reflection of the mirror and smiled at him. “Sorry Ernie, I just got out of the worst meeting.” She moved out of his way and started digging in her bag for her brush and lip gloss.

“Was it the one with Zabini? Because I saw him talking with Goldstein just outside of your office”

Hermione sighed. Just what she needed, to be alone with two good looking men; she started to think if Anthony attended the party and whether he had the balls to act like her masked man. She brushed out her curly hair and then reapplied her lip gloss. “Thanks Ernie. I’ll see you later.”

* * *

When Hermione got back to her office she had tried to get rid of the residual arousal from her memories. Luckily for her, just as Ernie had said, Blaise and Anthony were waiting for her, but now with Roger as well.

“Oh Roger, perfect!” Hermione smiled as she led the other men into her office, excited to have a valid distraction. “Thank you for getting that for me!”

“No problem, Ms. Gra- Hermione, sorry, habit.” Roger returned a sheepish smile and looked down. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Oh no, I’m fine. Thank you.” Hermione looked up from grabbing parchment and ink out of a drawer and saw that Blaise and Anthony were still discussing something or other, not paying her any mind.

* * *

THRUST– _“I’m”_ –THRUST– _“losing”_ –THRUST– _“my”_ –THRUST– _“patience.”_

_The daze returns; his prick rubbing against her clit in such a delicious way. “I want you to FUCK me!”_

_“Good girl.” He lines himself up to give it to her good and hard. He plunges into her with one quick, hard thrust. He quickly finds his rhythm. He was big and all Hermione could think about was the snug fit and how it filled her._

_He didn’t give her time to get used to his cock, no, he began to trust aggressively. He moved one hand from her hip to her clit and began to brush against her. Hermione tries to keep her moans in check, in fear of attracting attention._

_“No you don’t pet.” With his other hand he reaches and caresses her breast. “I want to hear you.”_

_The combination of the soft touches on her breast with the violent rubbing of her clit was so intense; it didn’t take long before Hermione was seeing stars. With a shriek, she comes all over his cock as her muscles squeeze him repeatedly._

* * *

The office door slammed open and quickly brought Hermione back to the present. She knew her knickers were soaking and she felt her anger rising.

She looked up and just about shouted, “What in the name…” when she saw the rest of her male associates enter her office. Her mouth started to water and she had to keep herself from drooling.

“Now listen here Goldstein. Blaise is right, there is a case here,” Nigel interjected into the earlier conversation.

“Your client got breasts that resembled Miss Eszes–“

At this point, Malcolm interrupted Anthony’s rebuttal, “You’ve seen them?”

“I’ve… I’ve seen the pictures.”

And of course, Hermione couldn’t keep her mouth shut and had to add, “Pictures? Pictures can’t tell you how they feel or if they move naturally.”

All the men in the room were speechless and turned to look at her with shock. And Draco, of course it would be Draco, had to have a calculating look on his face to go with that stupid cocky smirk, oh how Hermione hated it.

“Is it possible that Miss Allaway can err to the litigious side?” All the boys, and even Hermione, looked at Draco to see where he was going with this. “Look, why don’t we… just take a look for ourselves?” At that, Hermione’s jaw dropped. “That way we can at least give our clients some informed advice,” Draco continued.

Before Hermione could say anything, everyone was nodding their heads. Blaise was quick to respond, “That’s a good idea.”

“This afternoon would be good for me and Miss Eszes.”

Hermione was still speechless but had to turn her head quickly to each of her associates as they all answered.

“We’ll be right here.” Michael Corner shook Anthony’s hand.

“That works for me,” Justin Finch-Fletchley and Theo Nott nodded on their way out of the office.

“Half past 3 would be best,” Draco stated after checking with his agenda.

“See you then,” Anthony replied as all the men left the office.

Hermione’s jaw was still unhinged when her door closed shut. And when she finally gets it back together, instead of thinking about how ridiculous this plan was, she thought of each of her associates in the shoes of her masked man.

Quickly, she rushed out yelling at whoever was sitting outside her office, “I’m having a long lunch, my Floo will be closed, so just forward any owls.”

* * *

_Once Hermione has her bearings back, she tries to stretch and break free from his tight hold of her body. Even though they were both in bliss, it seemed that he wasn’t done with her._

_“Where do you think you’re going?” he rasps out. His cock was hardening all over again due to her struggling._

_He pulls himself out of her and flips her around so she’s now looking into his mysterious eyes. Hermione tries to figure out who this man is, this masked man who makes her forget herself, but he quickly distracts her by nibbling on her lips. She kisses him back and starts rubbing herself against him. They start inching towards the opposite wall while caressing each other’s tongues, and all of a sudden he’s the one up against the wall._

_She raises up one leg to wrap around his hip, she smirks into his kiss, and tries to position his dick without removing her hands from holding him back._

_He kisses down her jaw so that he’s nipping at her ear; he grabs a hold of her leg and quickly spins them so her back is against the wall. He growls out, “Thought you could fool me, did you? Someone needs to learn some discipline.”_

Hermione sat on her living room floor. Parchment with various amounts of notes lay all around her. She was shivering because she had absolutely no idea who that man was and she could not stop thinking about him.

It was starting to get to the point where she would soon start questioning her sanity; she just wanted to know what came over her, and why she couldn’t forget that night.

She searched around the room for a specific piece of parchment, the one that said ‘Butterbeer’ on it with three ticks next to it. She licked her chapped lips and grabbed her lip gloss to reapply, then pulled the quill out of her hair when the fire roared to life and Harry and Ginny Potter stepped out.

“Hey!” Ginny loudly exclaimed, “Whoa, what happened here?” Harry tried to maneuver the two of them through the mess so they could sit on the couch.

Before they could say anything else, the Floo flared up again, spitting out Katie Bell and Ron Weasley. “Hi Mione!”

Hermione was still doing mental calculations, ticking on the parchment that she finally found. So focused on her task that she didn’t even reprimand Ron for using the horrid nickname. The other occupants, used to being ignored when she was in the middle of work, simply made themselves comfortable and started talking as if she wasn't there.

When they mentioned the party on Saturday, Hermione decided to stop trying to count the number of drinks she had had and paid attention.

“Saturday was so much fun!” Ginny practically shouted to Katie, “There were so many good looking blokes I just didn’t know where to look and –“

Harry was first to interrupt her, pointing to himself with his thumb, “Ginny, husband here.”

“Yea Gin, brother here,” Ron quickly followed.

Hermione decided to be nonchalant about the whole thing and act like she was still figuring out how much she drank – she was at five butterbeers, one shot of Firewhiskey, oh and that one martini – while trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Well I wasn’t looking for me,” Ginny exclaimed, and stage whispered, “idiots! Why are all the men in my life idiots?”

Katie laughed and Hermione couldn’t hold it back either and guffawed.

“There she is!” Katie wiped the tears from her eyes, and quickly asked Hermione, “So who was that masked man you disappeared with?”

Ginny excitedly squealed, “Oh yes, who was the guy dressed as Zorro?”

Hermione froze for a fraction of a second, hoping it wouldn't be noticed. Katie and Ginny gave her the look – the look that meant there will be words later missy so don’t you think you can get away from sharing! Luckily, Ron and Harry were just as oblivious as always.

“I left early,” she lied, “I didn’t feel very comfortable in my costume.”

“I bet!” Ron agreed, “Every bloke, and even some of the women couldn’t stop looking at the sliver of leg you were showing ‘Mione.”

Based off that statement, Hermione had an epiphany. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth made a quick ‘o’. She scrambled to her knees and started shuffling through all her parchments looking for the guest list from the party. Maybe she’d be able to figure out who he was and shag him out of her system!

Her friends, recognizing that they weren’t going to get anything else out of her, quickly left to try and find some food.

When Hermione finally found her prize, she jumped up and threw a fist in the air. She looked around, blushing fiercely, finally noticing she was alone, and then did a happy dance. As she was twirling around the room, she glanced at the clock on the mantle and saw that it was almost half past three and immediately halted. She needed to make sure the men in her office didn’t cause another lawsuit.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione walked into the conference room five minutes late. When she looked up from putting away her lip gloss and compact in her purse, she realized that five minutes was a very long time.

Apparently, in the time it took for her to organize her flat, Floo back to the office, and walk to the conference room, a group of men could create a panel and two women could unbutton their tops.

Yes, five minutes was a very long time. She glared at all of them. Idiots, the lot of them.

Hermione was eyeing up all the men and realized that one of these men could possibly well be her masked man. She would leave the idea alone. Who cares if the memory kept plaguing her.

She was roused from her thoughts when Miss Eszes and Miss Allaway - the sister, Adelaide - unclasp their bras to let the ladies out for a show.

“Mh-hmm”

“Hm-hmm”

“Uh-huh”

The men look from one set of breasts to the other, stared for several moments, then look back at the other set. Hermione just wanted to slap them all silly.

“Next time Augustine, just get me a book.” Hermione couldn’t agree more. Who the hell buys breasts as a birthday gift?

Miss Allaway really did roll her eyes, “It shouldn’t take that long. So hush up.”

Hermione tried not to look at the breasts, but they were nice ones. She looked down her blouse to compare and when she looked back up at the women, she caught Draco’s eye. He just smirked at her and she stuck out her tongue - so what if its childish. He arched an eyebrow at her gesture. She was just about to tell him where he could shove his eyebrow when Theo spoke up.

“They’re really nice.”

“All of them.”

Hermione wanted to smash their heads, both of them, together. She wondered what a clobber sandwich made of Nott, Zabini, Malfoy, Goldstein, Corner, Wolport, Baddock, McMillan, and Finch-Fletchley would taste like. She hummed at the thought. All smart, wealthy, good looking blokes.

_He kisses down her jaw so that he’s nipping at her ear. “Thought you could fool me, did you?” The voice is deep and dark and when she tries to think about who he could be, her mind drifts back to the pleasure he’s bringing her. He grabs a hold of her leg and quickly turns so she’s the one with her back against the wall. “Someone needs to learn some discipline,” he growls._

_Hermione is a little miffed that her ploy didn’t work, but when he starts playing with her folds she quickly loses the thought._

_“Do you think I’d reward you for playing games?”_

_Hermione, who’s at the brink of orgasm, babbles and nods. Just as she’s about to scream out in bliss, he quickly withdraws his fingers._

_“Of course not.” He pushes her to her knees and shoves his cock down her throat._

_For a moment she can’t breathe and she starts to panic. But as he withdraws she sucks in as much air as possible. “A good girl takes her punishment.” He starts to fuck her face in earnest and Hermione can’t recall a time she was more turned on._

_She never thought she’d like it like this. Dirty and rough. She can’t believe she is getting off on it._

_When he lodges himself deep in her throat again, she hums. He slows down his thrusts. She moves her hands up to massage his bollocks. “Yes, you’re a good girl,” he moans as she tightly wraps her lips around his shaft and pulls away._

_“Oh yes, a very good girl.” He weaves his fingers into her hair and holds tightly and begins to piston into her mouth._

_When he’s close, breathing heavy, and nearly shouting, she takes her other hand and rubs his perineum. His cock jerks as he cums down her throat, forcing her to swallow it all._

She had never swallowed before, thinking she wouldn’t like the taste. She always heard it was bitter, but no, his definitely wasn’t. It wasn’t sweet, but it had just the slightest tang to it. She licked her lips when she noticed Anthony stepping closer to the two half-dressed women.

“What are you, near sighted?” Adelaide sneered at Anthony while Theo snuck a glance to Hermione.

“I’m just looking... looking for the scar.” Anthony took a step closer, much to the annoyance of every female in the room. He cleared his throat and took a step back, speaking to the firm’s solicitors, “And the fact that you can’t see one is... is evidence that...” He looked back to his client’s chest, “very nice.”

Hermione harrumphed, “hers aren’t the issue Mr. Goldstein.”

Anthony’s eyes finally leave the bare breasts in front of him, and he turned to look at Hermione, but not her face, her chest. Hermione, feeling exposed, crossed her arms over her breasts and walked over so that she is behind Draco, the only man not openly staring. She is not hiding! Just protecting valuable assets. And it was only Draco she stepped behind because he was the closest. It had absolutely nothing to do with the feelings the look he was currently giving her did to her body.

“The comparison is certainly an issue.” Anthony responded, while Miss Allaway looked at the two sets on display for everyone to see. When Anthony turned back to Adelaide, he added, “And come on, these are very good work.”

Hermione was about to retort, but was quickly beaten by a “They might look the same,” from Miss Allaway. She cantered until she was directly in front of the ladies, and quickly grabbed a breast of each woman, “But they don’t feel the same!”

Every male’s face perked up at the exclamation. Their eyes instantly drew upon the hands placed where they so wished their own hands could be.

Blaise was the first person to step forward, “Well, let’s see...”

Hermione had enough of this. It was bad enough that these men were objectifying these women, but one of them very well possibly could be her best shag, ever. She was not going to stand for it!

“I’m sorry but you are not going to touch these women!” She grabbed the bras off the floor and handed them to their respective owners.

She sent daggers at Blaise and then gave the angry look to everyone else in the room. If looks could kill, they’d have all seen the green light that led to their deaths. “None of you are.”

She does a final harrumph and was about to leave the conference room when Miss Allaway decided it was not over. “Jump Ade, show them how they don’t jiggle.”

Hermione quickly about faced and was barely able to hold in her scream, “No, she’s not going to jump.” She sent her fiercest look to Miss Allaway, no longer caring if she’s a big client to the firm. “This lawsuit is over. Put your clothes on.”

Miss Allaway returned the look. “You can’t just dismiss-”

“This is over. As an officer of the court I am recommending dismissal.” For added measure, Hermione glared at everyone in the room. “These breasts are fine.” She pointed at Miss Adelaide’s very nice fake breasts - Hermione has to remind herself that at least her own are real. “The fact that they may not look or feel the same as her breasts,” she pointed to Miss Eszes, and tilts her head trying to decide if the woman’s breasts would be considered better than her own. If she wasn’t so mad at everyone in the room, she might’ve asked. She needed to get back on track! She looked back to Adelaide, “Don’t tell me you didn’t assume that risk!”

“I’m not the one suing,” she nodded to her sister, “she is.”

Miss Allaway mumbled while pouting, “I paid for them...” 

Hermione, absolutely fed up with this, “It’s over Miss Allaway. If I seem a cold shapely person, tough. You chose me to represent you because I’m the best. But if you continue to waste my time like this, I have to insist you go back to using Miss Davis. She’s second best at this firm.” Several of the men look like they were about to argue, so Hermione quickly added, “This case is over.”

On her way out, Hermione made sure to scowl at everyone, apt attention spent on Blaise, Theo, and Draco.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione rushed back into her office, absolutely spent. She just didn’t understand men. She was putting away her purse into her desk when her door opened, and in walked the other female solicitors at the firm.

“Ugh, Miss Allaway was just here,” Cho Chang noted as she slumped down into an armchair in front of Hermione’s desk.

Hermione sighed, “Yep.”

“Who was she suing this time?” Lisa Turpin, who was leaning against the bookshelves to the right of Hermione, asked.

Before Hermione could respond, Romilda Vane cut in, “Ooh, maybe her gyno-healer missed a tooth.”

Tracey gasped, “Vicious!”

Hermione, who had enough of all this - was today just destined to be that kind of day? “You’re one to talk Tracey, you brought her to this firm!”

Tracey had the decency to blush. She whispered a quiet, “Sorry.”

“Seriously though. Why was she here?” Lisa asked again.

And again, before Hermione could answer, Romilda interjected, “Who cares. She left in a huff. We’re not here for that!” Romilda came around the desk to sit upon it, directly to the left of Hermione. She turned so she was facing her, looking directly into her eyes, “What happened with Zorro?”

_She’s having a drink with a lovely fellow dressed up as a gangster. From what she can see, he seems fairly cute. Decent arms, couldn’t really see his arse with the loose suit though. His smile was rather charming, on the other hand. He seems like the kind of guy who would do as he was told and be happy about it. Overall, he had potential for a decent one-off._

_Before she could invite him into getting a room with her, they were interrupted by a tall broody man dressed as Zorro. Now him, she could clearly tell was fit. His loose fitting peasant shirt was snug in all the right places, those arms, could you say yummy? His tight leather pants hugged his arse, and what an arse it was. She wondered what he was packing in those pants. When her eyes grace his face, he’s clearly amused._

_He leans forward and whispers in her ear, “Like what you see?”_

_Hermione is quite embarrassed, especially so, when the semi-cute gangster walks away from the two of them. She is just about to tell him off for interrupting, when he wraps his arm around her and continues talking._

_“Now, my lovely vigilante, why don’t you be a good girl, and come fight crime with me?”_

_She wants to laugh at the line, but being called a good girl makes her very, very wet. She’s afraid you could see the sheen run down her thighs. She was going to tell him off, but he grabs her arm and pulls her out of the ballroom and led her into the coat check, shoving her into the wall and nipping at her lips, hands roaming her body. She quickly tries to take charge, but he wasn’t having that and just puts her hands on his arms and continues as he was before._

_Merlin, he was fit. She squeezes his arms and bit his lips for a kiss._

“That good huh?” Cho asked.

Hermione sheepishly shook her head. “No, it’s just, do you know who was at the party on Saturday?”

The girls all gave each other knowing looks, clearly showing they didn’t buy the diversion tactic. They did let Hermione get away with it though.

“I spent most of the night talking with the players from the Falcons. Pucey, Flint, Kirke.” Romilda swooned, “and Oliver.”

Everyone snickered at Romilda’s words. Of course she’d think herself in love with Wood.

“And how about you guys?” Hermione questioned the rest of the room.

“We spent it with some of the other Quidditch players in attendance,” Cho answered.

“Oh yes, such yummy men! Except for Cormac, I swear he gets denser every time I see him. He must be getting hit by Bludgers a little too often. We got lucky to avoid him,” Lisa added.

Hermione started mentally crossing off the men from her list. So it came back to possibly being one of the men in her office, and if that was the case, she’d kill them. Not only did one of them shag her senseless, there was no acknowledgement afterwards, and then they instantly went to ogling breasts, _in front of her ___. She wouldn’t stand for that, nope.

When she looked to the last female in the room, Tracey just lowered her eyes and blushed. “I had my own costumed man to unmask.”

* * *

_While he’s catching his breath, Hermione licks her lips and rolls her head to get the kink out of her neck._

_He eventually pulls her up so she was again standing between him and the wall. Staring up into his eyes, she asks, “What are you doing?”_

_He ignores her question, and she forgot to ask again when a warmth was spreading through her from the fingers softly trailing up her thighs. He was staring back into her eyes when he reached the edge of her knickers he stopped._

_“Would you like me to continue?”_

_Of course she’d like him to continue! But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her so eager. She simply nods._

_“Tell me what you want me to do.” His fingers retreat slowly._

_She quickly grabs his hands as they start leaving where they were. She nibbles on her lip, thinking if she should submit to him, again. He tries to break her hold and she quickly whispers, “Stick your fingers in me.”_

_He smiles and still pulls his hand away from her legs and she is gobsmacked, What in the hell? His hand trail up her abdomen, tweaks at a nipple, brushes against her neck, until his fingers are seeking entry into her mouth. “You said you wanted them in you. You never said where.” The_

_Oh, she was angry. Stupid deep dark smug voice. She scowls, but all that did was wrap her lips around his fingers. She wanted to bite him! Who did this man think he was? Just as she was about to chomp her teeth down on the evil fingers, he pulls them away to caress her cheek._

_“If you wanted something else, you should have said. So instead I’ll give you what will please me.” He brings his hand back down to where they just were and leaves them just at her entrance, two fingers barely penetrating. “You have to bring yourself to the edge.”_

_She could do that, she definitely could do that. She started to drop herself on his fingers. Wow, they were long. She lifts herself up on her toes, and drops back down. She starts to breathe heavily as she develops a rhythm._

_Just as she’s about to cum, he pulls his hand back and lifts her up against the wall once more and impales her on his cock. She sees stars and actually screams in ecstasy._

_He’s pistoning in and out of her, quickly, and her orgasm quickly becomes another, and then another. She counts up to five before she can no longer think, and it’s when she’s possibly at her ninth one when he finally shouts as he fills her with his seed._

_When he finally lets her down, Hermione quickly rights her dress and fixes her mask. She can’t believe she just did that! What was she thinking?_

_She finds her bag on the floor near the door, picks it up and rushes from the hotel, her legs barely carrying her, before she could question her sanity. Not looking back to see the frown on his face._

In frustration, Hermione threaded her fingers through her hair and pulls as hard as she can. She quietly screams through her teeth. She shoved her purse off her desk and just fell into a heap on the floor. She should not have rushed off like that. Especially without knowing who had thoroughly shagged her. Especially if she wanted a repeat performance?

But did she want a repeat performance?

She thought about that. She didn’t have any control. She was at his mercy the whole time, even when she thought she was in charge.

She didn’t like that.

At least, she thought she didn’t like that.

She needed to find the wanker, slap him silly, then shag him into the floor, wall, table, nearest flat surface.

To do that, she needed to find him. And she had an idea of where to start.


	6. Chapter 6

**Tuesday**

She hardly slept, just two hours, maybe. She went into work, under heavy Glamour Charms, constantly applying lip gloss and brushing her hair. It was a bad day to be in her office, to say the least.

She spent the evening going over the guest list from the party and crossing off names of people she knew were absolutely not him. She then tossed and turned in bed still going over the list of names. When she still couldn’t fall asleep she tried Spartacus again, but all that did was make her remember _him_. She could bloody well kill him. She finally dozed off when her arms became tired and she couldn’t take it any longer.

She was frustrated, confused, and angry. There was no hope for her day. Plus it didn’t help that seeing the bloody letter opener incited a fantasy. A very hot fantasy.

_She was in the stables. Leaning forward against the stall door. Ass in the air, dress pulled up. He was standing directly behind her. His sword still sheathed. She almost laughed at the situation. Her dressed as a maiden, he as a knight, in the bloody stables. It seemed only fitting, she mused. That was until he lightly smacked her bum._

_“Count the strikes or they won’t count and I’ll have to start again.” She wanted to protest, even more so when she realised he wanted her to participate in her own punishment. She nearly cried as the first blow hit her backside, and it was hard! She tried to hold back the sob as she said, “one.”_

_“Good girl.” She blushed as the endearment made her wet. She hated how it had that effect on her, but she couldn’t help it._

_She had little time to ponder the circumstances of her arousal, when another excruciating blow rained down on her thighs. She meekly called out “two” before the third landed in quick succession. She felt the tears fall as the next few strikes fell. By six, she was outright sobbing. He delivered the next two swiftly, never hitting the same place twice as she screamed and writhed beneath him._

_When he finally stopped, she could barely see. He rubbed her bum, soothing the burn, then proceeded to run his hands all over her, kissing her reddened arse, stroking down her thighs. Despite herself, and to her utter vexation, warmth spread through her body, sparking wherever his fingers touched._

_“Shhh, it’s over now. It’s over now.” He continued to rub her backside up to her back, tingles being instantly sent between her thighs. “Please don’t make me do that again.” Make him? All she did was say she belonged to no man as she ran away from him. Letting him pull her into the stables in the middle of a costume party was a terrible idea. How was she supposed to know this was what she would get? Didn't she learn her lesson from their last encounter?_

_As if hearing her thoughts, he replied, “You know you’re mine. You’re just lying to yourself thinking otherwise. I can have you wherever and whenever I want. You kicking your heels when I desire you doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine.” She didn’t believe him! She did not kowtow to anyone, least of all a bloke in a mask, dressed as a knight! He lightly smacked her bum as a warning, and she instantly stilled her thoughts. No, she didn’t want that again. Not if she didn’t deserve it - now where did that thought come from?_

_As he continued to hold her, wiping her tears away, and brushing her hair back, she almost fell into a stupor._

_After a while, he leaned over her and whispered into her ear, “You’re so wet for me. Aren’t you?”_

_She stiffened at his words. Those words. She knew those words. This was him! He wasn’t just some random masked man spanking her. No, he was her masked man. The Zorro from the Masquerade party! This changed things. This made her even more angry. She didn’t know if it was at him or herself, but she’d be happy to take it out on him!_

_She looked back to him, wide eyed, and he raised an eyebrow and said, “Shall I check?”_

_She quickly shrieked “No!” How dare he make the assumption he could arouse her - never mind that it was true._

_He bent closer, mouth against her ear, “No, what? No, you’re not wet? Or no, you don’t want me to check?” His hand slowly moved down her back, over her bum, and inched over to his target._

_She couldn’t help it. He had a way with her, and she had no idea why. She pushed her face further into the stall and whimpered. He chuckled as he reached her bundle of nerves and flicked at it before sliding his finger along her slit. “Ah, very, very wet.” She let out a small sob at her traitorous body._

_“Kitten,” he soothed, pushing the tip of two fingers inside her. She jumped up at the feeling, and he quickly took his other hand to push her back against the door. “This is just your body reacting to who owns it. It knows who I am, even if you can’t admit it.”_

_She really wished she knew who he was. Maybe it would make the situation better. No, who was she kidding? It wouldn’t. Being treated this way would incite her fury regardless of who it was._

_“You just need to accept it.” He pinched her clit and shoved his fingers all the way inside. She gasped at the intrusion. His other hand wandered to her abdomen and then slowly downwards to rub against her nub._

_She was breathless. This man... this man... She couldn’t think._

_He wrapped his arm around her waist and picked her up and brought them over to a stack of hay in the corner of the stable. He laid her down on her back, mindful of her smarting arse._

_She was able to see him clearly now, besides the mask. It only made the unadulterated lust in his eyes all the more prominent. He leaned down towards her, arm raising, she thought he would kiss her and she closed her eyes in anticipation. When a kiss was not forthcoming, she opened them to see him reaching for his sword. He quickly brought it back to them, and she was about to panic, when he used it to slice open the front of her dress and bra, baring her fully._

_For several moments, he simply stared. She was slowly becoming uncomfortable with the way his eyes roamed her body. She was very tempted to at least cover her breasts, when he simply whispered, “you’re beautiful,” while brushing a hand across her right breast, thumbing her nipple. Her nipple hardened at the contact and it only angered her further. Her body hated her, that was it. He quickly ducked down and took it into his mouth, lavishing it in attention. His other hand traveled further down and brushed against her clit once, twice, thrice -_

_“Ooooh,” she moaned._

_He smiled and swiped one of her curls away from her face._

_“Would you like my cock?”_

_“No,” she narrowed her eyes at him and scowled. Of course she did, but she wasn’t going to ask. He had already taken enough from her. There was no way she would let him force her to beg._

_He pressed firmly against her bud. “Hmm, you’re not lying to me, are you?” and shoved his fingers back into her cunt. His mouth went to sucking her other nipple._

_“No-oh-oh.”_

_He looked up from her breast and his words touched the slick, erect tip, “Because you know how I feel about lying, don’t you?” He ran his other hand across her sore bum._

_“Yes.” Oops._

_“Now, let’s try again. Do you want my cock inside of you?” He slowly undid his breeches - wow, he went full out on the costume - reached for his dick, and pulled the glorious length out. She felt her insides clench at the familiar sight. What did it say about her that she recognized his cock more than his face or voice?_

_He leaned down over her, rubbing his erection against her thigh._

_She whimpered, “Yes.”_

_“Yes, what?” She knew what he wanted her to say, but submitting to him fully... It was asking for a lot. She couldn’t do it, could she? He brought his cock up to her entrance, grazing the slit without going in._

_She groaned, “Yes, I want your cock inside me,” hoping to satisfy him._

_“That’s good, for now.” On the last word, he thrust home._

“Miss Granger, there is a Miss Potter and Miss Bell to see you.”

Hermione groaned. What the bloody hell was Roger’s problem? Always bloody intruding at the worst possible times. Ugh. She almost scowled at him, and she had to try to keep from clenching her jaw as she said, “Yes, let them in.”

Roger gave her a weak smile and rushed out of her office, leaving the door open to allow her guests in.

“Oh wow, what’s got your knickers in a twist? Practically killed Roger with the look in your eye,” Ginny stated as she sat in one of the armchairs across her desk.

Katie, sitting in the one opposite it just frowned at her. “Is this a bad time? Should we reschedule lunch?” She asked as Ginny cast _Engorgio_ on the takeaway containers and began placing them along Hermione’s desk.

Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted the girls to witness her slow but eventual breakdown. She considered discussing what was on her mind, factoring the embarrassment versus the possible assistance she would receive.

No, this was personal. “Long night. I have a parole case coming up on Friday.”

Katie nodded in understanding, while Ginny asked, “Who is up for parole that could make you lose sleep?”

Hermione, realizing the diversion tactic wasn’t really working, quickly tried to recall if Roger had given her notes. She quickly glanced at her desk, and she could have jumped for joy if she wasn’t trying to be subtle, but there was the name, “Eddie Carmichael.”

“The Ravenclaw from my year?” Katie asked.

Ginny asked at the same time, “The one you reported in fifth year?”

Hermione nodded, just realizing where she recognized the name from. “He was trying to sell Buruffio’s Brain Elixer to the younger students. Claimed it was how he managed nine O.W.L.s.” She sneered at the memory.

“Greedy little cheat,” Katie snickered.

Again Hermione nodded.

They continued their lunch in relative peace, Hermione desperately trying to think of something other than her fantasies of her masked man taking her in the stables.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione was in the unisex bathroom, once again, brushing her teeth after eating lunch. When she was done, she combed through her hair. And then stared at her reflection in the mirror.

She thought back to her past sexual encounters. Examining the roles of control. She couldn’t recall ever giving a man control of her pleasure. She was always in charge, going so far as to prefer being on top.

She didn’t like giving a man a blow job. She didn’t want them to even think they had an ounce of control over her.

So why was it that last Saturday changed her entire view of sex? She was fantasizing about being dominated. That had never happened before.

She stared at the mirror, eyes blurring from the concentration.

_With a satisfied growl, he pulled himself out so that he was just at the entrance of her slit. She whimpered at the loss, causing him to smirk before he savagely drove his monstrous cock into her._

_When it started to hurt, she tried to pull away from him. It was too hard, too fast. “Please slow down,” she sobbed out._

_He stopped completely, filling her whole. “Why? You begged for my cock, so take it.” He slammed into Hermione, burying his cock to the hilt. When she whimpered again, he grabbed his sword and held it close to her throat, threatening her. Hermione nodded and just took it and tried to find pleasure in the pain._

_“Damn, your cunt feels good,” he said into her ear, slowly easing his cock out and then back in._

_It was then that Hermione felt pleasure building up. It was still painful, but the pain began to translate into pleasure. She started to enjoy his thrusts, and she let the sensation take over her body. The ridges of his cock rubbed against the walls of her pussy as he moved in and out, causing her muscles to clench his shaft even tighter._

_“That’s it, you little slut,” her masked man grunted. “Squeeze my fucking cock.”_

_She was already wet from the discipline he treated her to earlier, but now that she was getting into this rough, hard, primal fucking, with him whispering naughty words into her ear, she was sopping. Her hips rose to meet his thrusts, staring deep into his shadowed eyes. A pressure she knew meant bliss was building inside of her as he pounded into her pussy, the base of his groin grinding her clit with every thrust._

_“Tell me how much you love it, whore!” he demanded._

_The pressure kept building, “I do,” she cried, “I do love it, please don’t stop.”_

_His smirk met his eyes. She could clearly see the amusement he was getting from her debasement. But the pressure, the bliss, it all made her not care. ”Don’t stop what, kitten?”_

_“Fucking me... don’t... stop... fucking... me!” She shrieked with each thrust._

_“Fucking you with what, slut?”_

_“Your cock,” she panted, the pleasure causing the pressure to build to new heights. “Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock.”_

_“Sir,” he told her, pinching her nipples sharply, making Hermione gasp in even more pleasure._

_“Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock... sir!”_

_On the final word he slammed deep into her, causing the both of them to reach over the edge._

“Granger, seriously, do I need to always draw your head out of the clouds? You are blocking the bloody soap. _Again_.”

Hermione was startled out of her thoughts from a scowling Malfoy. She rolled her eyes at him and applied her lip gloss once more before returning to her office. As she walked away, she noticed Malfoy had a special glint in his eye.

She wondered if she could ever call a man ‘Sir’ in a sexual context. She didn’t realize that thinking about it was making her wet. The whole fantasy had her knickers soaked.

* * *

After a good half hour of trying to relive the stable fantasy with her once-trusted-back-when-it-successfully-got-her-off Spartacus, and not actually reaching climax, she was ready to explode. She was in her study at home, and she had already tore it apart.

The room was a mess, parchment and quills shoved off her desk, stains forming on the walls from thrown ink bottles, books scattered all over the floor.

Hermione was on her knees, in the middle of it all, crying.

She really didn’t know what had gotten into her. Was it too much to ask for an orgasm? She’d even take a tiny one. The sexual frustration alone, was taking its toll on her psyche. She didn’t even get to think about her sexual identity crisis or who the _bloody hell_ her masked man was.

She threw herself a wonderful pity-party. She decided as she looked around her study. “Well then, don’t I know how to party?”

She sat there, contemplating for a good fifteen minutes when she realized that she was Hermione Granger, and Hermione Granger does not throw pity-parties. No, she cries, then sends a flock of canaries at you. She would not allow something as small as this affect her life. No siree.

She smiled at the thought of “sir” but quickly shook her head, “No, there’s no time for that,” she said out loud.

She stood up, shook her legs of lethargy, and cast a spell to clean up her study. If she was going to get to work, she needed a clean workplace. She would address the one dilemma she could actively work on.

She went to get a cuppa from the kitchen while listing what she needed. “Start with a bulletin board, push pins, notecards, names, string.”

When she returned to the office she cast a silent _Accio_ for the items she wanted and began setting up. She placed the bulletin board up against the bookshelf and started listing the facts.

“He was dressed as Zorro.” She wrote Zorro on a notecard, and pinned it to the top of the board, followed by another note card with a large question mark written on it. She connected the two pins with some string.

“Right, that is the question. Who is Zorro?” she mused. She grabbed the guest list from the party and started to write each name on a note card. “Process of elimination is the most logical course.”

She put a note card for each of her female co-workers up on the board next. String connected Adrian Pucey, Andrew Kirke, Marcus Flint, and Oliver Wood to Romilda Vane.

“Well, good to know it’s that easy to knock four men off the list.”

She then placed the other Quidditch players onto the board, connected by string, to Cho Chang and Lisa Turpin.

“Okay, a good twelve other men off.” Hermione smiled, she was getting somewhere, and this was the happiest she had been since her last orgasm on Saturday.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione was miserable. She was able to knock off the Weasley’s and Harry without issue. Then all the married men who came with their wives, but she was left with a good stack of men still. Plus, there was still another Masked Man who was with Tracey that she wasn’t sure of.

She stared at the note cards spread out on her table.

Cormac McLaggen, “Oh please Merlin, not him. Not him.” Hermione pleaded.

Theo Nott, “He’s so quiet at the office.” She mused, “Well they always say it’s the quiet ones.”

She realised most of her male co-workers could not be connected to anyone with a string. She shook her head and quietly muttered, “pompous pigs, the lot of them.” recalling the day before. 

“Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Michael Corner,” she cringed. “Malcolm Baddock, Roger Davies,” she scoffed.

Other barristers were also not connected to anyone, “Anthony Goldstein, biggest pig of them all.” She snarled. “Terry Boot, I wouldn’t mind him.” Hermione thought.

* * *

When Hermione returned to the office, she was barely able to work. She kept daydreaming, reliving her latest fantasy. The littlest things could evoke the fantasy. When she used her letter opener,

_“Your cock,” she panted, the pleasure causing the pressure to build to new heights. “Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock.”_

“Sir,” _he told her, pinching her nipples sharply, making Hermione gasp in even more pleasure._

_“Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock... sir!”_

_On the final word he slammed deep into her, causing the both of them to reach over the edge._

_He kissed her forehead, and as he pulled himself out of her to get up, she reached behind his head to pull his mask off. When she saw who it was, she gasped._

Theo walked into her office, and quickly pulled her out of the fantasy, “Granger, I need to see the files for the Dunbar-Pritchard case.” 

She simply handed him what he asked for and imagined if he was her masked man. He was a good looking bloke, she mused. Hard-working, not much known about him really. Harry never had complaints about him, so he clearly distanced himself from his Death Eater father meaning having controlling sex with a Muggle-born wouldn’t be because of blood prejudice, hopefully.

When Ginny’s _Patronus_ came through her walls delivering weekend plans, the corporeal _Patronus_ horse made her think of her fantasy once more.

_“Your cock,” she panted, the pleasure causing the pressure to build to new heights. “Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock.”_

“Sir,” _he told her, pinching her nipples sharply, making Hermione gasp in even more pleasure._

_“Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock... sir!”_

_On the final word he slammed deep into her, causing the both of them to reach over the edge._

_He kissed her forehead, and as he pulled himself out of her to get up, she reached behind his head to pull his mask off. When she saw that it was Roger Davies, Hermione immediately laughed_

“Ha! As if.” She giggled. She giggled so much that she fell out of her chair, which prompted her assistant/secretary/bitch boy, to check up on her. This only made her laugh harder.

“Miss Granger, are you alright?” Roger asked.

Through tears, she was able to gasp out, “Yes... just... funny... Okay...” She was wheezing and could barely breathe. Yeah, definitely not Roger. He couldn’t command a pygmy puff, let alone her!

Once her breathing was under control she was able to seat herself again. She still had the occasional giggle, but she could at least breathe.

She tried to pay attention to her work again, but when she overheard someone counting outside her office, she couldn’t help it. She really couldn’t.

_“Your cock,” she panted, the pleasure causing the pressure to build to new heights. “Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock.”_

“Sir,” _he told her, pinching her nipples sharply, making Hermione gasp in even more pleasure._

_“Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock... sir!”_

_On the final word he slammed deep into her, causing the both of them to reach over the edge._

_He kissed her forehead, and as he pulled himself out of her to get up, she reached behind his head to pull his mask off. When she saw that it was Michael Corner, it did nothing for her._

She really hoped it wasn’t him. If he couldn’t turn her on in her fantasies, he really couldn’t have been the man from Saturday.

* * *

Blaise had stopped by her office to talk about the case they had the previous day. He apologized for the lack of professionalism that all the men exhibited and then asked Hermione if she wanted to go to dinner. Hermione scoffed, and told him not this week. Maybe another time.

He left a little dejected, mumbling how it wasn't fair that she went for drinks with Malfoy only the other month, but Hermione was on a mission, and refused to see anyone until she knew who her masked man was!

_“Your cock,” she panted, the pleasure causing the pressure to build to new heights. “Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock.”_

“Sir,” _he told her, pinching her nipples sharply, making Hermione gasp in even more pleasure._

_“Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock... sir!”_

_On the final word he slammed deep into her, causing the both of them to reach over the edge._

_He kissed her forehead, and as he pulled himself out of her to get up, she reached behind his head to pull his mask off. When she saw that it was Blaise Zabini, she pulled him back for a snog._

Well, if it did turn out to be him, there wouldn’t be any issue there. Just him being a chauvinistic pig. 

Thinking about the day before, she tried to picture Anthony. She thought what it would be like if he was the man she unveiled, and realized she’d probably just punch him in the face.

She really hoped it wasn’t him.

“Mine!” was screamed outside. She had no idea by whom -probably a client’s child - but that of course enticed her to think of the other potential masked men.

_“Your cock,” she panted, the pleasure causing the pressure to build to new heights. “Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock.”_

“Sir,” _he told her, pinching her nipples sharply, making Hermione gasp in even more pleasure._

_“Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock... sir!”_

_On the final word he slammed deep into her, causing the both of them to reach over the edge._

_He kissed her forehead, and as he pulled himself out of her to get up, she reached behind his head to pull his mask off. When she saw that it was Malcolm Baddock she started spouting all the reasons why it was wrong. He was a senior partner at the firm. His father was her boss._

No, that wouldn’t be good. 

She thought back to her list, and who was left. Terry Boot. He was a cute Ravenclaw, but most Ravenclaws weren’t known for their ability for force. She doubted it would be him. 

She then thought of the other two men left on her list.

_“Your cock,” she panted, the pleasure causing the pressure to build to new heights. “Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock.”_

“Sir,” _he told her, pinching her nipples sharply, making Hermione gasp in even more pleasure._

_“Please... keep... fucking... me... with... your... big... cock... sir!”_

_On the final word he slammed deep into her, causing the both of them to reach over the edge._

_He kissed her forehead, and as he pulled himself out of her to get up, she reached behind his head to pull his mask off. When she saw that it was Cormac McLaggen, she threw him off her and started hexing him._

Hermione gagged. She actually wretched in her mouth a bit. She rushed out of her office to the loo.

She had bent over, splashing water into her face, trying very hard to get the horrible taste out of her mouth. She possibly would kill herself if he turned out to be McLaggen. The _Avada Kedavra_ Curse would be too good for her should it end up having been him. 

“Nice arse, Granger.”

Hermione jumped up and spun around, causing her to be trapped between the sink and Draco Malfoy.

“What... what are you doing here?” Hermione sputtered. Damn! He just had to catch her off guard.

He smirked, and nodded behind her, “soap, as always.”

She smiled at him and quickly dashed back to her office before she could catch the look he gave her. She grabbed her things and yelled at Roger that she was leaving early. She just couldn’t work in this environment.


	9. Chapter 9

She was blindfolded. She was alone. She could smell the sea and feel the breeze in the air. The creak of a heavy door startled her, and when strong arms grabbed her and pulled her up to her feet she started to struggle.

“Let me go!” Hermione said in her usual demanding tone.

“Quiet or I will gag you” The man chuckled from behind her, the sound caressing her ear. 

A twinge of excitement raced down between her thighs. She was pulled forward, her heeled boots echoing on the wooden floor. Another door groaned as it was open and she was pushed inside. She stumbled, and her short wench’s dress flipped over, giving a splendid view of her arse. 

The door slammed, and she quickly composed herself. Her cheeks reddened at the thought of her captor seeing her so vulnerable - not like she wasn’t vulnerable as it was.

For several moments, it was silent. The scent of the ocean was less prevalent as the musty room overtook her senses. Was she alone? She reached up to tug on her eye restraint, and then she heard him.

“I wouldn’t do that, wench,” the voice growled, filling her with even more pleasure. Maybe she was gagging for it? She slowly lowered her hands to her side. She felt him move closer to her, felt him standing in front of her. She could hear his soft breath, and could almost feel his chest on hers. She gasped when his hand touched her face and she recoiled away in surprise. 

His hand quickly moved to grab her by the hair. “Stay still,” he snarled. She could feel his breath on her face. “You are my captive now. You will do as I say.” With his hand still wrapped in her hair, he removed the blindfold. She stayed in darkness as she kept her eyes shut.

“Look at me,” he ordered. Slowly parting her lids, she looked up into the eyes of her masked captor, who was dressed as a pirate. “Good girl,” the words paralyzed her. She knew who this man was. It was him. And he was making her wet.

He smirked and pulled her head back, “You are mine now, whore.” He roughly pressed his lips against her. She was no one’s and definitely not his! She squeezed her lips together, keeping his tongue away from her, trying to maneuver away. He pulled back, and scowled down at her.

Her hand drew back and slapped his face, “I am no one’s!” She shouted, as he started to trail one of his hands up and down her body. “Release me!” she demanded in a wavering tone, his touches sending a signal straight to her cunt.

Releasing the hold he had on her hair, he grabbed her wrist and squeezed, “I’ll release you,” he snickered fiendishly, “when you scream my name.” 

“Never,” she screamed. “Let me go!”

He leaned in again, harshly kissing her. His tongue invading her mouth. She felt her resolve weakening, her body betraying her. Who was she kidding, it was betraying her the moment she realized it was him. His hungry kiss held so much that her knees buckled. He pulled her close, released her lips and chuckled at the effect he was having on her. 

His smug expression angered her. Bugger her body! She stomped down on his foot and struggled out of his hold. His grip around her waist tightened, making her lose her breath. He reached for the bodice of her gown and ripped it open in one fluid motion. Yanking her gown off her shoulders, down her arms, he used the torn dress to keep her arms pinned at her side.

“Stop this,” she cried.

“I told you, this will stop when you admit you are mine.” He laughed as he traced his fingers down the side of her face. She tried to pull back, not sure if she was disgusted with him or herself, as the lust began to fill her.

His hand reached down, making its way under her petticoat, travelling up her thighs. His eyes held her in her gaze as she whimpered.

He smirked, “Mhmm, lace,” and then ripped her knickers off her body, exposing her to his touch. Hermione gasped as his finger drove deep into her, “Such a wet little slut,” he laughed.

“No,” she panted, trying to fight her desire. “Please... stop.”

He slid another finger into her, pumping in and out, feeling her muscles grasping him. Her juices were seeping, as he watched her squirm on his hand. His thumb reached up to her swollen nub, rubbing slow circles. “Who owns you kitten?”

Hearing his question with the endearment, Hermione snapped out of the lust filled fog. “No one,” she whispered, glaring at him.

He rubbed her clit harder. He could see she was getting closer. His other hand pinched her erect nipple causing her to let out a loud moan. Twisting and pulling on her puckered nub, her moans increased. “You want to cum, don’t you my little slut?”

“Oh please,” she groaned, unable to fight the urge for release.

He chuckled, “Beg me, whore.”

“Please... please... ohhh... sir... please,” she gasped.

Feeling her muscles constrict, he increased the speed, thrusting deeper, rubbing rigorously. Her head fell back, her back arched upwards. Loud moans escaped her lips.

He leaned forward so that his lips were just at her ear. “Cum,” he ordered making her shudder. 

He released her and stood back watching her shake with orgasm.

As Hermione caught her breath and her heart rate returned to normal, she looked up into the masked man’s eyes, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. How could she have let this man tell her to orgasm and then listen to him? She was not some silly school girl.

She mustered as much hatred as she could - and it was somewhat difficult as this man could deliver an orgasm like no other - and looked deep into his eyes, “Well, I got mine. I will be leaving now,” and turned to run towards the door. 

In a moment he had a firm grip on her shoulders.

He spun her around, his mocking tone struck arousal in her, “Oh so you think you are in control, slut?” He pulled his cutlass from its sheath. He lifted the blade and laid its cold steel against her neck. Moving it slowly down her skin, with a flick of his wrist, he sliced through the delicate material of her bodice. Her dress and bodice were in tatters at her feet. 

She tried to fight him as he pulled her over to the captain’s desk. Bending her over the desk, with one arm he reached into a drawer and withdrew a coil of rope. He bound her wrists, tying them to the legs of the desk. He moved behind her as she struggled helplessly pinned beneath him. He restrained each ankle to a table leg. 

He lifted her skirts exposing her to him. She begged him to stop, to release her. A sting spread across her arse as his large hand came down. Smack! 

“I thought... you already... learned this... lesson!” He continued to spank her. 

Smack!

“Please stop,” she cried. 

Smack!

"Who owns you?” 

She whimpered in silence, not willing to give in.

“Who. Owns. You. Slut?” He marked each word with another smack on her bum.

Hermione bit into her lip, the pain in her arse making her flesh throb. 

He ran his hand tenderly over the marks he left, admiring the red glow. In a whispered tone, he asked again “Who owns you?”

She let out a soft moan as he gently caressed her sore bum. She fought hard not to give in but she felt a twinge of pleasure when his hand moved toward her wet center. She moaned and pushed back against him.

He chuckled softly, “What do you want kitten?” He pinched her swollen clit.

“Ohh... p-please sir... please,” she whimpered.

“Please what, whore?

“Please fuck me. Sir!” she pleaded, the need overwhelming her.

He devilishly snickered and released hold of her clit. She heard rustling behind her. His hands gripped her hips as he entered her in one deep thrust. She moaned and bucked back. Increasing his rhythm, he pounded into her relentlessly. He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back.

Her moans turned into screams of ecstasy as her pleasure rose. He could sense she was near release, and slowed his movements. He laughed to himself when she moaned in disappointment. Tormenting her with his slow strides, she cried out “Harder, sir! Harder! Take me!” 

“Who owns you?” He growled feeling his own desire to orgasm growing stronger.

“You do, sir! You do! You own me!” She screamed as he quickened his thrusts, her orgasm flowed through her body making her quiver. He pulled her head back harder and let out a moan. She felt his seed filling her. His sweaty body collapsed on top of her bound form.

Panting into her ear, “That’s right my kitten, you are mine.” He released her from her restraints and stood back, waiting. She rose slowly from the desk, and looked to the door. This was her chance. She turned and faced him, then glanced back at the door, then him. He smiled at her, not saying a word.

She walked slowly toward him, stopping directly in front of him, so close he could breathe in her scent. She looked up into the eyes behind the mask, mesmerized. He reached out and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, applying the slightest of pressure.

Hermione felt his touch on her flesh and knew. She slid down onto her knees and gazed up at him and whispered, “I’m yours, sir.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Wednesday**

Hermione woke up with a start. She was very aroused, and the fact that she just had the naughtiest dream she ever had did not escape her. Neither did the fact that regardless of the naughtiness of said dream, she still hadn’t climaxed. 

She grabbed her pillow and placed it above her face, then proceeded to scream her lungs out. 

This was just not her week.

When her throat was sore, and not for the reason she would be okay with, she decided it was high time to reflect on her life.

Maybe she was a submissive. She didn’t really want to believe that, but she would look into that some more. She made a mental note to do some research on the topic. By herself. It would be weird to ask Roger to go looking for material called “How to Know If You're Into Submission” and the such. It would make for a good laugh though. And with the way her day was already starting, she considered asking him to get the materials she needed.

Next, she really needed to figure out who her masked man was. She couldn’t stand not knowing who was controlling her, even if he didn’t know he was.

She crawled out of bed and scuffed into her study to stare at her bulletin board. The strings made her happy. The pins that weren’t connected to anything, however, made her frown.

She stared at the list of men who were unaccounted for and quickly shook her head. There were only a handful that she’d be happy with in that pile. Theo and Draco at the top of that list, but she wouldn’t admit that out loud.

There was a chime from the living room reminding her of the time. She rushed off to get ready for work.

* * *

She ended up not asking Roger to get the reading materials she had wanted. She figured it would embarrass herself more than it would him. 

She was in the middle of reading about when one looks upon being of service to someone and their heart aches with need when a knock at the door startled her.

“Come in,” she mumbled, trying to hide the book she was reading under several legal pamphlets and case notes.

The two men she least wanted to see - or possibly most wanted, she wasn’t even sure anymore - stepped into her office. She was so surprised to see the two of them that she wasn’t sure if she hid the book in time. When she looked up to find one with an eyebrow arched and the other smirking, she flushed all the way to her toes.

“You look good like that Granger,” Draco said, while Theo hummed in accord of his assessment.

It made her only turn more red. “What can I do... do for you?” She was furious with herself for the tremble in her voice. Was it them? Was it what she just read? Did it make her heart ache wanting to do something for them? She knew it made her wet thinking of them asking her to please them.

This time Theo was the one to speak, “Miss Allaway is here again in Tracey’s office.”

“The partners want you to help,” Draco finished.

She sighed. Just what she needed. “Okay.”

She stood up to follow them out of her office, but in the process of getting out of her chair she managed to knock some items off her desk, one of them being _the_ book. The little blush that managed to disappear came back full-fledged and when she bent down to pick it up and hide it in a drawer she saw that Draco had hung back waiting for her. Based off the smirk on his face, she knew he read the title of the book.

She scowled at him and harrumphed before pushing him out of her office. His smirk turning into a sinister smile.

* * *

Hermione could hear Tracey saying “Try and stay calm,” as she walked into her office, a questioning look on her face.

When she sat down across from Tracey’s desk, right next to Miss Allaway, Hermione could hear mumbling. 

“Overwrought and calm. Overwrought and calm is a bad combination.” Miss Allaway turned when she noticed Hermione, “I don’t like that outfit.”

Hermione opted to ignore the client. She had already told her she wouldn’t work with her anymore, yet here Miss Allaway was. She directed her question to Tracey, “What’s wrong?”

She replied, “She’s overwrought.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “I figured that out when I came in.”

Tracey sighed, “A group is trying to shut down her mud wrestling club with a racist claim. They’re evidently going to court on Friday ex parte.”

Hermione groaned. Of course, it was a mud wrestling club. Racist? What? Were all the girls Muggle-born?

Before she could respond, several of the men from the firm entered the office. Roger and Draco were missing though. She felt somewhat happy about that, especially when Blaise interrupted her by saying “Wait, I’m going to have to stop you. Let’s go back half a step.”

The rest of the men nodded along with Blaise. Hermione could easily see him taking control if he could lead everyone the way he was. “Mud wrestling club?”

Tracey answered pointing to Miss Allaway, “She owns one.”

“Where... when... in the mud... they...” Blaise sputtered. Hermione took back her previous thought. If girls in the mud turn him into goo, there was no way he was her masked man. Her masked man was always in control. She squirmed in her seat, rubbing her thighs together at the thought.

Miss Allaway was quick to continue on Blaise’s train of thought, “Wrestle! And WAMO wants to shut it down.”

Hermione mouthed WAMO and Tracey whispered “Witches Against Muggle-born Objectification.” Oh. Hermione nodded in understanding. She could see the racism claim.

“Why is everybody just out to get me,” Miss Allaway sighed.

Hermione’s eyes widened and Tracey was trying to hold back a snicker. In the background, they could hear the men whispering and muttering about how this could lead to something good. Miss Allaway cases always lead to something good for them. Hermione rolled her eyes, good for them, but a headache for her.

* * *

Hermione was in the loo reapplying her lip gloss when Terry stepped out of one of the stalls. She quickly moved away from the soap, not wanting a repeat of the day before and all the other times she had a man bothering her in the loo.

He smiled at her and Hermione tried to match his features with her masked man. His hands looked similar. But it was dark and his hands were busy with other things, distracting her with what they were doing, so she wasn't sure. She didn't know how to approach asking him about Saturday, but she was in luck.

“Do you still talk to Lavender Brown?”

The question made her move her eyes from his hands to his face. He didn’t have a face that could pull of a smirk like her masked man did. “Yeah, we meet up every now and then. Why?”

He stammered, sweat on his brow, Hermione could tell he was nervous. Yes, definitely not her masked man. “You see... Well, we sort of hit it off at the Falcon’s party.”

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. She was happy to be able to connect his note card to someone else. More string for her bulletin board at home! She smiled brightly, “Of course, I’ll send her an owl and see if she can meet you for drinks sometime.”

“Thanks, Hermione.”

“No, thank you!” She cheered as she walked back to her office.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione took advantage of her lunch break that day. She let Roger know she was taking another extended lunch and went home to add the glorious string to Terry’s note card. She was happy to have one less person on there. She made it her goal to find out about Roger and Cormac that very day. She highly doubted it was Roger and she pleaded with Merlin, Morgana, and Circe that Cormac was far, far away from the events of Saturday.

She figured that since she absolutely positively couldn’t live if it turned out to be Cormac McLaggen, she decided connecting his note card to anyone besides the question mark was of utmost importance. 

Cormac played for the Arrows with Angelina Johnson, who fortunately owed Hermione a favour. She wanted to think her pleas were going to be answered the way she wanted, but she would wait for results first.

She brought some take away from a kebab shop on her way to visiting the stadium. She ran into the women’s locker room, avoiding all male players. She really couldn’t afford to be seen by the only person who could make her consider casting an _Avada Kedavra_ on herself. Was that even possible, she mused, with a small smile on her face.

When Angelina caught sight of Hermione, and the plastic bag full of containers in her hand, she jumped up and clapped her hands. “Oh Hermione. I love when you need a favour.”

Hermione laughed and shook her head, “You’re spending too much time with George. You’re getting good at that.”

Angelina smiled and grabbed the food. She picks up a kebab and smiles, “Really, what do you need?”

Hermione smiled, and primly seated herself next to Angelina on the bench. In her most proper voice, or what Harry would call her solicitor tone, she asked, “Can you tell me the whereabouts of the rest of your team last Saturday?”

Angelina, recognizing the tone, just answered, “Well, most of us were at the party.” 

Hermione took a deep breath, hoping that one of the ones missing was Cormac, “Do you know who did not attend?”

“I think Montague and Warrington didn’t show.”

Hermione shoulders dropped, dejectedly. Angelina noticing this, was quick to question, “Who do you really want to know about?”

Hermione, not really want to give anything away, but also really wanting to get the idea of Cormac away from her mind, decided to be blunt but vague, “McLaggen.”

Angelina roared. Her laugh echoed through the locker room and Hermione wondered if she was the butt of some joke.

“McLaggen, the pillock, had himself kicked out for trying to start a fight with Wood.”

Hermione’s face brightened. “When was this?”

“Really early in the night. Apparently they both came dressed up as Dracula.”

Hermione wanted to jump up and kiss her. A huge weight was off her shoulders. She was sure that Angelina didn’t know that she gave the one piece of information she needed the most - well, besides telling her exactly who Zorro was, but knowing, with one hundred percent certainty, that it was not McLaggen was exactly the pick-me-up she needed.

“Thanks Angelina. That’s all I needed.”

As she walked out of the locker room, a skip in her step, Angelina called out, “Next time, bring Indian food.”

* * *

She was going to have to do something nice for Merlin, Morgana, and Circe. Send flowers? Maybe send something to those actors playing them on that new TV show? She wasn’t sure, but she was really, really happy to put a string connecting Cormac to the note card that said, “not there”.

She did a little jig.

Now to figure out the rest of the puzzle. She stood there, staring at the bulletin board, hand on her hip, her other hand on her chin, finger tapping on her bottom lip.

Maybe she could approach the problem from another angle. 

She continued to stare, eyes glazing over, when she suddenly gasped, “Where did he get the costume?”

* * *

She stood outside the door of the Smitten Kitten for a good five minutes. Wondering if stepping inside would be worth it. She already tried Madam Malkin’s and was reminded why she didn’t get her own costume there. The men’s selection was far more pathetic than the meager pickings she looked through last week.

Did she want to go inside the store? How much of a lead would this truly be? Was the reward worth the unease?

_“Who owns you?” He growled feeling his own desire to orgasm growing stronger._

_“You do sir! You do! You own me!” She screamed as he quickened his thrusts, her orgasm flowed through her body making her quiver. He pulled her head back harder and let out a moan. She felt his seed filling her. His sweaty body collapsed on top of her bound form._

_Panting into her ear, “That’s right my kitten, you are mine.” He released her from her restraints and stood back, waiting. She rose slowly from the desk, and looked to the door. This was her chance. She turned and faced him, then glanced back at the door, then him. He smiled at her, not saying a word._

_She walked slowly toward him, stopping directly in front of him, so close he could breathe in her scent. She looked up into the eyes behind the mask, mesmerized. He reached out and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, applying the slightest of pressure._

_Hermione felt his touch on her flesh and knew. She slid down onto her knees and gazed up at him and whispered, “I’m yours, sir.”_

If she was ever going to find him, she'd have to get over herself and talk to Tink.

She took a deep breath and was just about to step into the Smitten Kitten when the door opened. She walked right into a hard chest.

"Fancy seeing you here, Granger." Hermione was mortified. She didn't have to look up. She knew that voice. Of all people, it just had to be Draco.

Another voice added to her embarrassment. "I didn't know this was an establishment you frequented."

She finally looked in the direction of the new voice and saw Theo smirking at her. 

She dropped her head and groaned. This would have been all well in good, except she heard the thud of her forehead hitting flesh.

“I’m not a wall, Granger.” Draco whispered.

Hermione mumbled incoherently. She wasn’t even sure what she was saying. She decided that things couldn’t get any worse so she just pushed him aside and walked into the store and walked right up to Tink. She acted as if the past few minutes never happened.

When she heard the door close, she groaned and dropped her head into her hands.

“Well, wasn’t that embarrassing?” Tink laughed.

Hermione only groaned more. Maybe this was a bad idea. She shouldn’t have tried this tactic. Should have just continued on the vein of questioning everyone. 

“Except!” Hermione shouted, forgetting that she was inside a sex shop. Except she just saw both Draco and Theo in a sex shop. Only deviants went to sex shops. That would fit the M.O. of her masked man. They could have also purchased their costumes for the party there. Oh, it was totally a good idea to come. She smiled.

Tink only giggled at her antics. Hermione was quivering her lips while going over information quickly in her head, an outside party could tell by watching her eyes dart in all directions.

Hermione, realising that she was not in her study but in fact out in public in front of people, blushed when she heard the giggling. “Uh... Those men that just left. Could you possibly tell me about their purchase history?”

“No can do, dearie. Privacy is very important to business.”

Hermione realised she phrased her question too vaguely. “How about if they’ve bought costumes recently?”

Tink fidgeted, not comfortable with the interrogation, “I really shouldn’t answer.”

"What if I only ask yes or no questions? Would that be all right? "

Tink eventually nodded and Hermione could have kissed her. "But I won't answer anything too specific about who they are."

She could work with that. She was fairly certain it was one of them so she would be happy if she could get that confirmed.

"Did either of them buy a costume recently?"

"Yes. They just did." Tink gasped. "I didn't mean to say that."

Interesting. They bought costumes again. She wondered why. She looked at Tink and tried to figure out if she would give any more information. She squinted her eyes at her, trying to see if she could find answers in her face, mannerisms, something. 

The scrutiny worked and Tink caved. “Okay, don’t say anything to anyone. I didn’t tell you, but there’s this party tomorrow night...”


	12. Chapter 12

**Thursday**

Hermione woke up happy. It was the first time all week, but she wasn’t going to let the sexual frustration get to her today! She pranced around her room as she got ready that morning. 

After her conversation with Tink, she rushed home and connected both Draco and Theo to the question mark on her bulletin board. She also noted that Blaise and Malcolm were still unaccounted for, but she was fairly certain it was neither of them. However, she wasn’t the best barrister for nothing and would not ignore the possibility. The goal for the day was to further prove that her masked man was either Draco or Theo.

Once she knew with utmost certainty that Blaise and Malcolm were connected to someone else she would focus on her two suspects. 

So the plan was, she mused, figure out where Blaise and Malcolm were during the party while she was at the office today. Then she would attend the party that Tink told her about.

She made plans to attend the same party for that evening, and she was going to confront them and find out exactly which one of them was the star of her fantasies the past week. 

She spent extra time getting ready, just in case something was to happen tonight. She wasn’t sure how late she would be at the office, she did have a parole hearing the next day to prepare for. So she wanted to make sure that if she needed to nip out of the office quickly, all she’d need to do was change.

Tink made sure that she had the perfect outfit for the evening. Once she had told Hermione the details about the party, she was no longer forthcoming about the two men. Hermione wasn’t sure what they were dressing up as, but Tink assured her that she would know them by how her costume matched theirs. 

Hermione loved her costume. It was a long white flowing gown, the fabric draping over her body. It had slits that reached her hip on each side but one would only know when she walked. The neckline dipped low and her back was bare. The mask that accompanied the costume was gold and only covered the top half of her face. She looked like a Goddess in the outfit, and she adored it. 

While putting on her lip gloss she mused about what sort of costume her masked man would be in for the night? Would he be dressed liked a God? Zeus or Ares? Maybe a demon to match her angelic features? Would he be a Gladiator or possibly Caesar? Or maybe even a satyr? She laughed at the thought as one of them dressed as Pan and left for work.

* * *

Hermione was reviewing the case notes for the parole hearing the next day. She was surprised at how much work she was able to accomplish now that she had a rough idea of who her masked man was. Sure, she still hadn’t found any release since Saturday, but it wasn’t at the forefront of her mind any more.

She was fiddling with her hair, biting her lip, wondering how Eddie Carmichael managed to come up for parole three years earlier than when he should have - the idiot was caught selling illegal potions, _again_ , when she was drawn from her thoughts by a knock at the door.

Roger walked in with a frown on his face. “Miss Granger, there’s a meeting in the conference room.”

Hermione wondered why he looked so upset, “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head but then quickly nodded, “You won’t be happy. Miss Chang and Miss Davis are in there looking very glum about something. Several of the men are in there as well. I’m not sure why, but it doesn’t look good.”

She was a tad confused, but smiled at Roger’s concern. He could be so sweet sometimes. She reapplied her lip gloss, biting her lip was a bad habit, she reminded herself, and straightened her robes.

“Don’t worry. I’m a big girl,” she told him as she left her office.

* * *

Hermione was seated in the conference room, same seat from when she was last there. This time though, she wasn’t fidgeting and didn’t have to worry. She loved today. Knowing that she was close to finding her masked man made her simply glow. She looked around the room and like Roger said, it had Cho and Tracey sitting on either side of her. Blaise and Michael were leaning against the bookshelves on the opposite wall. The various blond men of the office, Nigel, Ernie, Theo, and Draco were sitting opposite of the girls and Malcolm was standing at the end of the table, in senior partner mode.

“They’re claiming that the club is destroying the progress that our society has made since the war,” Malcolm said.

“Why would Miss Allaway own her own porno club?” Cho asked.

Tracey replied, “It’s not pornographic. There’s hardly any nudity. It’s just women in bathing suits. Wrestling.”

Every male in the room had a shit-eating grin on their face and Hermione scowled at Draco and Theo. Hermione scoffed, “Oh, let me guess, it’s a sport?”

Cho, at the same time, asked, “How could she own a place like that?”

Hermione could hear one of the boys mutter, “and manage to keep it a secret?” She scowled even harder in the direction, particularly at Draco and Theo. Didn’t they know that one of them were her’s? If she was going to be his, it worked the other way too!

Malcolm, quickly realising that a battle of words was about to break out, continued, “Anyway, they’re trying to shut her down ex parte. Probably be using the women or Muggle-born degredation cliche. I want to take the high road and counter with women of our own.” He looked to Cho and Tracey, “You two are Half-bloods.” He then turned to Hermione, “You’re the poster girl of Muggle-borns. Hermione, Cho, Tracey, dream team.”

All three women were shaking their heads and were quick to say no. Cho even muttered, “Not a chance.”

Malcolm, unhappy with the reaction, said “Look, I hate to pull rank, but this is the kind of case where having female barristers, who happen to also not be pure-bloods, is a plus. We owe it to Miss Allaway to extend our best efforts.” And then he quietly mumbled, “Not to mention this is a client I’m still trying to reach sexual fruition with. Especially after taking her to the party last Saturday.”

Hermione, still upset with Draco and Theo, temporarily forgot her anger and smiled. Well, that was easy. She could connect Malcolm’s card to Miss Allaway.

He continued, in a pleading voice, “For once, I’ll ask you to think of someone other than yourselves. Can you do that? Can you do that Cho? Think about the senior partner that sign’s your paycheck. How about you Hermione? Would you possibly consider somebody other than yourself?” Hermione thinks no, I would much rather spend my time with either Draco or Theo doing something very delicious and degrading. Her lustful thoughts halt as Malcolm’s voice rose, “I realise it involves using a new muscle, but to me, any job is meaningless unless it offers the opportunity for personal growth. Off we go. Be solicitors.”

He and every man in the room tried to shuffle out of the conference but all stop in their tracks when Tracey nearly shouted, “Hold on a second, the judge will probably want a hearing, which means we need to check this place out.”

“The Mud Club?” Cho asked.

“I don’t like surprises. Maybe Ernie can go -” 

“Absolutely not!” Cho was quick to say. “He has a date with me tomorrow,” she whispered.

Hermione, realising that she still had him on the list smiled and mentally crossed him off. She would connect him with string when she did the same with Malcolm.

Malcolm quickly offered to go that very night, and several of the other men were nodding at his invitation. The glare she directed at Theo and Draco softened when she heard them decline, stating they had plans for the night already.

Blaise, being the last to say he would be joining, folded his hands in front of him and grinned, “I’m actually a good spy. I briefly considered going Muggle and a brief stint with the MI5.”


	13. Chapter 13

All three girls were easily able to get out of the reconnaissance mission and she would have been happy about the fact even if she didn’t have plans for the night.

Hermione was fidgeting, shifting from one leg to the other, and nibbling on her lip. She was staring at her reflection in the mirror of the office lavatory and was wondering if this was a good idea. Did she really need to figure out who it was? What would she do when she did figure it out? Would she scream at him? Or would they shag against a wall again? Would her fantasies and dreams compare? Would she call him sir? 

There were just so many questions swirling in her mind, she started to second-guess her decision.

“Seriously Granger, is it your goal in life to block the soap?” She started at Draco’s voice and had the grace to blush. She stepped to the side to give him access to his precious soap as she dug in her purse for her lip gloss. She really needed to stop biting her lip.

She reapplied the gloss while Draco washed his hands in the basin next to her. She could see him intently staring at her in the reflection of the mirror and shuddered, in fear or anticipation, she wasn’t sure. 

She rushed out of the loo and barricades herself into her office. She would focus on work until it was time to go to the party. She would see this thing through. She needed him.

* * *

For the second time in just as many days, Hermione was staring at a door. This door led to answers, but it also led into a seedy little club that gave Hermione the chills. She had stood in an alley across the street, watching the entrance, hoping to catch her masked man when she realised just the type of people who were entering the club. 

At first, she thought it was a costume night, or some sort. There were masked people entering as characters from Alice in Wonderland, some people she thought were superheroes, and various other costumes you’d find in the adult section of a Halloween shop. The most common was leather and PVC though, and Hermione knew plenty of boys to know what that meant. There was even one couple where the woman was being lead in by a leash. 

Yeah, she didn’t think it was a good idea anymore. She looked down at her own outfit, a white toga dress that plunged to her navel in the front and to the dip above her arse in the back. It was wrapped around her body with a thin leather cord that rested right under her breasts. She couldn’t wear any underthings because the silk caressed her skin in such a way that even a thong would be noticed. Her riotous curls were pulled back from her face and laid against her back, giving her little cover. She heard a ruckus at the door and saw a gladiator trying to make his way inside.

She drew a deep breath. As long as there were no other gladiators present, this was her masked man. He looked a little more tan than she recalled, but it was rather dark the last time they were together. She reapplied her lip gloss, which was now empty. She sighed, she really liked that lip gloss and wished she knew where to get more of it. It had come in a package last week from a random client thanking her for her work. She knew she should have sent a return Owl. Oh well. She didn’t want to miss her chance at her gladiator. She primped her hair and vanished the now empty tube. No point in keeping it.

She squared her shoulders and marched to the front door.

Hermione stepped inside and barely held in a gasp. This was not what she had expected. It looked more like a hotel lobby, not very different from the Gwydion. The floors were a polished marble and the walls were painted a very light shade of grey. There was a tall counter to her left where a woman with a smile plastered on her made-up face was standing behind it. Hermione took another deep breath and plodded towards her. 

The closer she stepped, the more of the woman’s outfit was revealed. Hermione marvelled at the tight fitting bodice the woman was wearing. The receptionist contrasted beautifully from Hermione, and she started to feel self-conscience, which was a feeling she hadn’t felt in a very long time. The woman had perfectly straight blonde hair that framed her face wonderfully. She was wearing a tight black leather corset and skin-tight leather pants. The woman was thin, but had ample cleavage spilling from her top and the arse that Hermione could see from the mirror behind the counter could bounce a Galleon off it.

Hermione sighed. If this was the sort of women inside, maybe her masked man wouldn’t be interested in her. She may want answers, but she didn’t need to be humiliated.

Before she could turn to leave, the receptionist began to speak. “Are you a member?”

Hermione eyes grew wide. Well, that was unexpected. She was screwed. She couldn’t very well say yes. What if they required some sort of identification? If she said no, she’d be embarrassed.

This was definitely not a good idea. She would go back to the Smitten Kitten and hex Tink. Then go home and play with Spartacus and hope to get off. It all sounded like a much better plan. 

Hermione really wanted to run away and had every intention of doing so but was stopped by a masculine hand placing itself on the small of her back. She felt shivers run up her spine as the man spoke, “She’s here with me. Just put her as a plus one.”

The receptionist sent a quick glare to Hermione before painting a smile on her face when addressing Hermione’s savior. “Yes, sir. Please enjoy your evening.”

The words sir made Hermione blush, but she tried to hide it as she was pulled away from the receptionist towards the curtains blocking the hallway leading into the club.

She turned her head to the side subtly to look over the man leading her to her doom. He was wearing a dark leather mask that blocked his face, the curly sandy blond hair and thin lips being all she could see of his face. There was a dark neck piece around his shoulders, leaving his chest bare. She smiled at the sight of the strong arms and muscular pecs on the man. His arms had leather cuffs from his wrist to his elbows. He was also wearing a studded leather skirt with a sword sheathed on his other side. She smiled when she realised that the gladiator was the one to escort her.

They stepped into the main room. It looked just like a large lounge. There was a bar that wrapped around the back wall, comfortable seating towards one side, a dance floor in the middle, and a hallway on the right side leading to another part of the club. The walls had soft lighting and a primal beat was playing on the speakers.

He led her onto the dance floor. He stood behind her, with both hands on her hips and began to dance to the beat. Hermione, now feeling confident with her masked man behind her, started to get into the dance. She smoothed her hands down the silk fabric of her dress. She swayed her hips to the music. She bounced from one foot to the other. When the music beat louder, she snapped her hips, grinding down as she brought her arms up her body. 

Hermione’s eyes flew open when her masked man pulled her into his hard chest. She turned her head to the side and grounded her arse against him as he held her captive. She moved against the wall of body behind her, driving herself to pleasure by the small touches. She moved her head to the side exposing her neck so that he could nuzzle her skin. He drew pictures on her skin with his tongue, and it only drove her more mad.

He trailed a hand from her hips up her sides until he was holding one of her hands. He dragged her off the dance floor to one of the dark corners of the room. He sat down in a comfortable chair and managed to pull her into him so that she was sitting on his lap. He had his mouth inches from the sensitive skin behind her ear and Hermione felt his warm breath caressing her neck. 

Somewhere in her sexually frustrated addled brain, Hermione thought that the feel of him was not right. The skin was too dark. His kisses were not rough enough. His touch was too light.


	14. Chapter 14

Before he could take it further, there was a looming figure above them growling. Hermione looked up to find another gladiator. He was dressed like the man she was sitting on, but he was lighter skinned, had a lighter shade of blond hair, and his face looked angry. That was a look she recognized from last Saturday. 

She shivered in anticipation.

He turned the venomous look from Hermione to the man behind her and snarled. He grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her off the man’s lap and dragged her into the hallway that lead away from the main room. 

The new room looked completely different from where they had just left. It was set up more like a dungeon. It was just as crowded as the main lounge. There were several groups standing and watching various scenes taking place. Many were silent, standing closely together. There were idle hands caressing a thigh or trailing up skirts discreetly. Others simply watched. 

In one corner, the woman who was led in by a leash that Hermione saw earlier was bent over a table being flogged.

She shivered again. She wasn’t sure if it was from anticipation still, or from fear.

The new masked man, the one Hermione was one hundred percent certain was her masked man, pulled her into him closer. “Would you like that to be you?”

Hermione shook her head. It was one thing to be spanked, but to be flogged in front of all these people? Her pussy gushed at the thought of him disciplining her. 

He pulled her away from the scene into another dark corner. It was oppressively dark and the cool air caused goosebumps to appear on her skin. Suddenly, a light appeared from above and the room became dimly lit. She saw that there was a thick column blocking them from the crowd. Hermione turned to face her gladiator where she observed the solemn expression on his face.

He began to stalk forward, backing Hermione into the wall. She trembled when she realised she was in the exact same position as she was on Saturday as well as in all of her fantasies. She bucked up though when she saw the look in his eyes. A look of blind rage.

She wasn’t sure if she should be scared but she knew that it made her hot.

“What in Merlin possessed you into letting that creep drool all over you?” Hermione’s skin tingled as the silently cast _Scourgify_ took effect. 

Hermione growled. That was rude. It’s not like she knew it wasn’t him. She only had Tink’s hint of his costume to go by. She pushed him back away from her, giving her ample space to glare and poke his very hard and strong chest. “I am _not_ your property.”

She didn’t need this. So what if he was the greatest fuck of her life. She wasn’t some subservient bitch to do the bidding of any man. Even if her body and heart told her to stay, she took the opportunity to pace towards the opening by the column.

Her masked man-gladiator-best fuck of her life clearly didn’t agree with her. He slammed his arm in front of her, effectively blocking the only exit. The aggressive action took Hermione by surprise, which in retrospect, she shouldn’t have been. Especially, after his actions at the last party, and all the fantasizing about him. She knew she got wet from the aggressive behaviour, and she could only orgasm from this man because he wasn’t afraid to become that bold.

He used her silence to bend down and darkly whispered in her ear, “I think you’ll find that you do belong to me.” He placed both hands on her shoulders and walked her back up against the wall. Hermione mused that this must be his favourite position, and it was slowly becoming hers. She didn’t want him to know that though, so she scowled.

“Now, now, kitten. Don’t ruin your beautiful face with a scowl,” he tsked. 

She looked up to him and wondered how she could have mistaken the other man for him. This man was painfully taller than her, and his presence just commanded her. While she enjoyed the company of the other gladiator. It just wasn’t the same. Her face fell in shame. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her. She knew she didn’t like to be controlled, but this man could do anything to her and she’d be happy. She fantasized about being his play thing, she couldn’t find bliss unless it was by his hands, tongue, cock. She was confused and needed to get away.

She made a move to escape by ducking under his arm but his reflexes were too quick and he pinned her to the wall.

“I don’t know where you think you’re going,” he said with a matter-of-fact calmness that had her heart pumping in ardor. She wondered how he would punish her for her previous misconception. 

He lowered his eyes from staring intently at her face to her ample breasts. She followed his gaze and noticed that at some point her nipples had hardened and were now protruding through the silk fabric that made up her dress. He moved a hand and flicked his thumb over her left nipple causing Hermione to gasp. The feeling sent waves directly to clit.

“I think that I’ll have to show you how you’re mine.” His face was dark with lust and desire which only fuelled Hermione’s arousal further.

“By the time I’m through with you there will be no doubt in your mind that you belong to me.” Hermione couldn’t argue and didn’t want to tell him that she already did. She knew it, even if she didn’t want to admit it out loud. Plus, she wanted to see what he would do. She really needed to cum.

He suddenly lost control and grabbed her around the waist and pressed her roughly against the wall, kissing her furiously. He forced his tongue into her mouth, massaging her tongue before pulling back to nibble on her bottom lip. He then grabbed her hand and placed it on his crotch. She could feel his stiff cock through the studded leather skirt of his costume and she quivered.

“See how hard you’ve made me?” He let go of her hand and placed his on top of her shoulder and began to push her to her knees. “You’d better suck me off right now.” 

Hermione was faced directly in front of his thighs. She could smell the leather of his gladiator skirt. She took her hands to lift the costume and stared at his beautiful cock. This was the dick she had been fantasizing about all week. It was hard and glistened with precum. She darted her tongue and licked the drop that was forming. This elicited a moan from her masked man which only boosted her confidence. He weaved his fingers into her curls and pulled her closer to take his cock fully in her mouth.

She began to bob her head up and down with him setting the rhythm by tugging her hair. He groaned softly above her and she knew he was close. She was just about to raise her hand to fondle his bollocks when he pushed her face away, causing her to abruptly release his cock from her mouth.

“I’m going to cum in your cunt so that you know it’s mine,” he growled. 

He took a step back, pulled her up and threw her against the column. He holds her up by her throat. Hermione didn’t know if she should be afraid that she couldn’t breathe or turned on by his behaviour. Her dress was drenched and she knew that if the light was any brighter, one could see the wet marks her pussy had caused. 

Hermione took a deep breath and felt a blade at her neck where his hands once were. She gasped. The metal rested heavily on her skin, making Hermione feel fear for the first time that night. The blade lazily glided lower until it reached the leather cord holding her dress to her skin. She felt him pushing slightly until she heard the leather rip with a soft pop and the blade touched her body once more. 

He worked his way upwards to her right shoulder, raising the fabric until it also tore, allowing a perfect view of her front. He glided the sword across her neck to her left shoulder and cut the fabric again. Her dress was now in tatters at her feet. 

Her body became rigid as she held her breath when sharp metal touched her hardened nipple. She clenched her eyes shut. For an agonizing second, she thought that maybe tonight was a terrible idea. That maybe being with this man, submitting to him, was the worst idea ever, but he pulled the blade away.

She released the breath that she was holding. 

He places the blade lower until the tip was skimming along her slit. “Are you scared?” 

“Yes,” and it was an honest answer. She was scared that this was exactly what she wanted. 

By the way he exhaled, she knew that was the right thing to say. The blade remained in the dangerous area, however, after a short moment, the feeling of his finger was there. She gasped at the new sensation of him flicking her nub. 

She felt his warm breath on her cheek. “You look beautiful when you’re scared,” he told her as he slipped one finger smoothly inside her. She gasped. This slow agonizing treatment was turning her on more than any of the fantasies of rough disciplinary actions she had earlier in the week. 

“On your knees. Face the column.”

Hermione quickly obeyed. She turned around, her knees scraped the floor as she used the column as support. He grasped her hands on the other side of the pillar, forcing the sword into them.

“Don’t drop it.” He said while returning to her side of the column. 

“Look at you.” He pressed three fingers into her open pussy, “you’re wet and ready for anything.”

She shook, doing everything possible not to drop the sword, as he grasped her hips. She whimpered when she felt the tip of his cock at her entrance. This was what she had been waiting for. What she had wanted.

He started very, very slowly. Annoying Hermione with his slow torture. She knew this was part of her punishment for earlier. She just wish he would spank her and get it over with. She needed to be fucked raw. She was his. She knew that. So why wouldn’t he just give it to her already?

She could feel the constant pressure as he pushed in further, the head of his cock stretching her bit by bit. When he gripped her harder and started pushing more aggressively, she moaned. She grit her teeth and pushed back against him as her body tensed. This was the feeling she had waited for. The feeling that made her his. Her hands gripped the sword tight, doing everything possible not to drop it.

She moaned again as he slid further, deliberately slow. She could feel every vein of his member grazing her walls in an exquisite fashion. When his hands tensed, she squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation. She screamed when he shoved her body forward in one good, hard thrust. She could feel his bollocks against her thighs. 

Her masked man gave her a moment to get used to him. A moment she was happy for. This was the cock she would do anything for. She realised she was covered in cold sweat. Her hands shook, tightly clamped around the sword.

He pulled himself almost completely out, a feeling so overwhelming, she couldn’t help but moan again. He didn’t seem to mind that she was having trouble holding the sword. He sheathed himself inside of her again, so hard and so fast that it was almost brutal. 

She wavered in her hold of the sword. The excitement about this act started to build inside of her. She couldn’t ignore it and if this was how he would punish her, she’d make it a point to do little things like earlier again. She smiled.

“If you cum without permission, I’ll stop.”

She whimpered and tried to ignore the wonderful feeling in her pussy. Did he not know that she had not orgasmed since Saturday? That she had been waiting for his cock all week? 

He pulled out again, going steady, but faster now. His movements evolved into a continuous pounding that knocked her head against the pillar, leaving her breathless. She was in heaven. Her eyes misted as he thrust into her again. She felt his hands were getting slick from his own perspiration and noticed that hers were as well. She gripped the sword tighter, determined not to disappoint him.

She didn’t think she could take much more. She needed to cum. She needed this to end or she would drop the sword and be in even more trouble. “Please.”

He redoubled his efforts, thrusting into her harder. She was shaking, doing everything possible not to climax. It was getting difficult not too. She took deep breathes as he fucked her, tears falling down her cheeks.

“Beg me!” He growled.

“Please, sir. Please, may I cum? I need to cum sir.” He punctuated each of her words with a thrust. She didn’t think she would make it.

“Please, sir. Please, sir,” Hermione repeated, almost as a mantra. Her mouth suddenly dry as he slammed into her aggressively. The tingling excitement continued to build up and she was certain that she wouldn’t make it. “Please, sir. May I cum for you?”

“Cum for me, slut!” He responded, slapping her arse sharply. In one final thrust, he pulled them both over the edge.

Hermione cried out, her body tensed. She could feel him spurting his release inside her as her mind spun wildly, her hands still holding the sword tightly. She screamed long, hard and loud as her body spasmed in ecstasy, not caring about the people on the other side of the column. 

He slipped out of her and knelt behind her for a few moments. She could hear him breathing along with her. Her arms start to shake uncontrollably, and she knows that she needs to be released from her punishment soon, or the sword would inevitably fall. 

Her masked man noticed. She felt him get up and reach around the pillar to remove the sword from her hands. He then pulls her away from the column and stepped in front of her. He knotted a hand into her hair and pulled her head back; presenting his cum soaked cock to her lips.

Hermione sucked on it greedily, fighting off unconsciousness. Her tongue lashed about it, tasting the mixture of both their orgasms, cleaning every drop of it off his dick.

When he stepped back and righted his costume, Hermione tried to stand. She faltered, and he caught her and lifted her into his arms. He hugged her tightly, and she thought that she still hadn’t unmasked him. Still didn’t know his name. He carried her through the dungeon room, people clapping and whispering as they passed. She flushed and tried to keep her eyes open. 

She heard him whisper in her ear, “who do you belong to?”

She replied, “yours,” then slipped into unconsciousness.


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione awoke the next morning with the largest smile on her face. Her sexual frustration was finally taken care of and while she could go with another round, she now knew who to go to for her fix.

Wait.

No, she didn’t.

Well, she was pretty sure she knew who it was. She was eighty percent sure that it was Draco Malfoy. The light blond hair and pale skin was hard to miss.

She jumped out of bed and looked around her room. She knew that she passed out at the party, so her masked man must have known where she lived to get her back here. She looked for any signs of his presence. There was no way that the evening was just a dream. It was simply too erotic to have been only that.

She groaned. She was going to go into the office, walk into Draco Malfoy’s office and slap the git. If he thought that he could give her the best fuck of her life - and second, if she was counting - and just drop her off at her home without so much as a goodbye, he had another thing coming.

She was fuming, pacing the floor in front of her bed. Building up a rage, her magic crackled around her. She was ready to hex the next thing that came to her attention, which just so happened to be a rose over a necklace of some sort and a note. 

She cast _Incendio_ on the flower. If he so much as thought that a bloody rose would make up for her waking up alone, he had another thing coming!

She stomped over to the nightstand and brushed the ash away. She threw the jewelry off the letter onto her bed then glared at the piece of parchment. She didn’t really want to read it. She liked being angry at the man who could dominate her so well. She almost decided against reading it at all, and sending it the way of the rose.

But he would be very angry with her if she did that. The thought made her instantly wet.

She then realised that if she ever wanted to have great sex again, it would be okay to anger him, but only to an extent.

She read the letter.

> _Granger - You looked good last night. Sorry about the dress. Well, not really. It was the dress or you. Better the dress, I say._
> 
> _The collar. Put it on if you want to continue what we started last week. But know that, once you put it on, you really are mine. And it will be more than just sex between us._
> 
> _Imagine it as a necklace, and it will calm your feminine wiles. You may be mine, but I’ll let you tell people in your own time._
> 
> _See you at work._
> 
> _P.S. Wear a skirt only. Nothing underneath._

Hermione growled. Who did he think he was? First of all, she liked that dress and he would be compensating her in more than just giving her a collar. _A collar!_

She eyed the piece of jewelry that she had thrown on the bed. It was a rather pretty choker. If she had any doubt about who her mystery man was, the collar gave it away easily. In the middle of the black ribbon was a green crest with a large M in the middle. 

It was a good thing that Draco Malfoy still retained his family pride. 

It was even better that he did not retain his family’s aversion to Muggle-borns. Very much better, as it made Hermione’s sex life wonderful.

She nibbled on her lip and thought about the night before and started comparing it to their first encounter. She liked that he made her beg to cum. It made it all the more fulfilling. Well, it would have been fulfilling regardless, considering she hadn’t orgasm all week. She wondered if she could talk him into the stable or pirate fantasy. 

Who was she kidding, she would simply tell him that she liked men who dominated her with swords and he’d be in.

The collar glinted when the sun beamed through the curtains, pulling Hermione from her thoughts. She could wear it. She did like the bloke. They did go for drinks the month before and other than it ending on an embarrassing note on both their parts - Astoria Greengrass, the ex-fiance he left because he didn’t want to marry the harpy, interrupting their would-be kiss goodbye - she would have very much rather they continued seeing each other. Sexually, they were perfect, even if she didn’t know it then. And if she still didn’t like the idea of being submissive... who was she kidding? If the sex was always like that, she’d be happy to give into him.

She picked up the collar and played with it. Could they be more? He was an awesome barrister and they worked well together when they were assigned as partners. Her friends were civil with him. His parents were always cordial with her. 

It was a rather pretty collar. 

Hermione walked into her en-suite bathroom and raised her arms above her head, allowing the ribbon to wrap around her neck. She turned her head from side to side, admiring the way the Malfoy crest laid in the hollow of her throat. He did say she could imagine it as something else to keep others from knowing the nature of their relationship. She thought about it staying the same but the crest turning into a square-cut emerald, and she gasped as she watched it transform.

He hadn’t lied about her making the decision of when others could know. 

She tied the ribbon. She had the perfect outfit in mind to go with her new choker.

And she’d wear knickers, because she did _like_ the little discipline he would give her.

* * *

Instead of going straight to her own office, she bypassed it and walked over to the office of Draco Malfoy. The door was shut but she didn’t care. She strutted past his sputtering secretary and merely walked in, slamming the door in the bimbo’s face. The bimbo secretary would have to go if a relationship was going to come out of this. If she had to trade Roger, then she would, but the dumb bimbo in the pink skirt suit that barely covered her arse would definitely be far away from her man. It almost made her feel subconscious about her own outfit - a black skirt suit that was at a tasteful length just above her knee, a silver singlet under the blazer, nude thigh high stockings and classy silver peep-toe pumps. She also liked the green lingerie set she had under the whole outfit, and couldn’t wait for when he would see it.

Draco was seated at his desk - one that wasn’t as nice as her own, she mused - and didn’t look up at her commotion. Scowling, she crossed her arms across her chest, and politely coughed.

He continued reading the casefile in front of him, occasionally adding some notations in the margins. Hermione started to tap her foot as the minutes ticked by. She did _not_ expect this when she put on the collar - now necklace - on this morning. She pursed her lips and glared at him when she realised five minutes had passed. If he didn’t answer her this time, she would leave and just take off the collar and forget about him - _yeah, right._ She coughed again, tapping her fingers on the opposite elbow.

“Yes?” the blond drawled, finally looking up. 

Was he always that attractive? All the fantasies from the past week flickered through her mind, the masked faces replaced with the grey eyed man in front of her. She tried to discretely rub her thighs together. 

He raised an eyebrow at her action, proving that it wasn’t as discrete as she had hoped. “I see you followed directions.”

Oh, this would be good, she hoped. She nodded her head slightly, but smirked. If he thought her wearing the necklace was a clear sign of her acceptance, well, he had another thing coming. She was just starting to accept this whole dominant/submissive thing that apparently got her off like a rocket to the moon, but she wasn’t going to be ecstatic about it. Happy, she could deal with, but because it was Draco Malfoy, she couldn’t let him be too smug about it. His ego was big enough - _not as big as his co_ -

“Did you follow all my directions?” he asked, rising from his seat and walking around the desk so that he stood in front of her. She shivered as he traced the edge of her blazer, letting his finger graze the decolletage her singlet put on display. 

She didn’t answer, figuring not responding was better than blatantly lying. Plus, she wanted to see how he would try to figure it out and how he would react. She hoped it would end with her pleasure. Yeah, she had an epic night, but it only barely made up for the days before. She needed just a smidge more to hold her over.

Draco’s fingers trailed up her collar bone, tickling her under the neck. He pressed two of his fingers against her lips, slipping between them. Hermione lathered the digits with all her attention, keeping her eyes on Draco’s the whole time. The desire burning in the stormy grey was breathtaking and she was a little upset that the masks had always hidden the lust.

As he pulled them out of her mouth, she tightened her lips, hearing the pop once they were free. She kept her eyes fixed on him as he lowered his fingers to the edge of her skirt. She smiled when he arched his brow when his fingers touched the edge of her stockings, and smirked as they followed the garter to her hip. When he reached the garter belt, he caressed her mound, frowning at the feel of wet silk.

She tried to hold back her smile as he tsked at her, but it was very difficult, and the corner of her lips lifted of their own accord.

“You find it funny that you disobeyed a direct order?” he drawled, slipping his fingers into her drenched knickers.

She again decided to refrain from answering. Not answering was better than lying.

He circled her clit slowly, never touching where she wanted. Once in awhile, a finger would graze the nub, making her moan. She watched as the desire in his eyes burned to levels she had never expected. She knew he would enjoy discipling her as much as she hoped she was going to.

He placed his other hand at the small of her back, rubbing in a soothing gesture, pushing her onto his fingers. The added pressure made her squeal. She needed more. _Much, much more_.

Finally touching her where she wanted, he held her clit between two fingers, squeezing them together. It was painful. But it was good. He let his fingers fall and play with her glistening slit. He did not push into her, as much as she moaned and begged with her eyes. She knew what he wanted, but she really didn’t want to give it up without a fight.

He licked his lips, drawing her eyes away from his. She followed his tongue as it wet his plump lips from one side to the next. She wanted to lick his lips. Before she could lean forward and follow through with the thought, the infuriating man pushed her onto his fingers, impaling her on the two, making her moan out loud. He didn’t move once he was knuckle deep, and he held her in place so that she couldn’t seek out her own pleasure.

Instead, he leaned down - why was he so tall? - and pressed his lips to her. Surprising her, she gasped, letting him slide his tongue into her mouth. She moaned into his mouth as their tongues battled. Hermione may not be the dominant person in the relationship, but again, she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She sucked on his tongue to remind him of that.

She took pleasure in his groan, but she would be happier if he was thrusting those fingers in and out of her. She tried to pull back from the kiss, but he held her firmly in that spot.

A knock at the door made them split apart. She groaned in displeasure. She was on edge, and she could see the bulge in Draco’s pants, meaning he was on his way there as well. He cast a spell to clean them both up, but it didn’t lessen their libido. She just hoped that the person would go away soon. He still hadn’t seen her Slytherin green knickers.

She sat in a guest chair in front of his desk as he perched himself on the desk in front of her. He grabbed the casefile he was working on earlier while she reached for his quill and a random piece of parchment. Once the two appeared to be settled, he let the intruder in.

It was Roger, her assistant/secretary/bitch boy. And right now, he was very much in that last category.

“Excuse me, sir.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, this boy was such a pansy. 

“Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy, you need to head to the Wizengamot for the parole hearing. It starts in a half hour.”

Oops, she totally forgot about that.

“Do you have my notes?” she asked, nonchalantly, trying to act as if her and Draco were working on that very case instead of partaking in foreplay.

“Yes, Miss Granger, right here.” He handed her the casefiles and quickly left the room. Hermione noticed the glare Draco was sending him, and could totally understand the sentiment.

“We’ll finish this later,” he drawled. He stood up and lead the way out, holding the door open for her.


	16. Chapter 16

In the lift at the Ministry of Magic, Hermione wasn’t sure how to act. She was sexually frustrated, again. And now there was no not knowing the man standing in the way. She really wanted to push Draco against the wall and ravish him, but when they entered the empty lift, he had looked at her in challenge.

She would not let the man think that he could win a challenge against her. No siree. 

Instead, she just kept her hands at her sides, tightly gripping her robes. 

They had started on Level Eight, having gotten on at the Atrium. She had expected the lift to go straight to Level Nine so they could proceed down the stairs to the courtrooms, but instead they had stopped at Level Two to pick up a few passengers. One was an Auror Hermione recognised from a dinner party at Harry and Ginny’s. The other was in the grey tracksuit that criminals held at the Ministry wore. 

The man smirked at Hermione, making her cringe. Draco stepped in front of her, in a protective gesture.

She scowled at his tall, broad shouldered back. For a moment she forgot her ire in order to admire the very fit figure he had, but remembered that she was not a lovesick fool. She poked him in the back, hissing, “I don’t need you to do that.”

He squirmed at her poke, but didn’t move.

She poked harder, pushing him to the side so she could see the prisoner.

His smirk turned feral, a predator's grin. 

“Can we help you?” Draco asked, clearly uncomfortable with the look he was giving her. She was uncomfortable too, but she didn’t need Draco to take care of her. This wasn’t the bedroom!

“Just wondering how you liked the lip gloss?” he answered, folding his hands in front of him.

“What?” Draco questioned.

Hermione, not responding, thought back to the lip gloss she had to throw out last night. She had it for a week, and she loved the taste so she put it on often. Instead of chap stick, as was the norm, she’d use the lip gloss to moisten her lips. The lip gloss was a normal tube, it was a normal nude colour, smelled normal, tasted normal. What was this man talking about?

“I’m pretty sure you enjoyed it,” the prisoner responded, ignoring Draco and keeping his eyes on Hermione’s lips. “You must’ve finished it already since you’re not wearing it any longer.”

Hermione scowled. How did he know this?

“What is he talking about?” Draco turned to ask her, returning her scowl.

Hermione looked up at him, just as confused as he. How was she supposed to know what this crazy person was talking about? She tried to think back to when she got the lip gloss and only recalled receiving it as a gift from a past client. But was she sure that’s where it came from?

“Was it _you_ who sent me that package?” 

Draco turned, expecting an answer.

The man nodded, his grin never faltering. He was clearly happy with this turn of events. “Did it make you do anything _unexpected_ perchance?”

Hermione startled, she had to hold herself up with the lift wall. How was he supposed to know about her crazy week? 

“I take that Mister Malfoy here was the lucky accomplice to your usage of said lip gloss?” he continued to ask, still smiling. The Auror next to him trained a wand in his direction, but made no effort to shut him up.

Why wasn’t he shutting up? Did she want him to?

No, she wanted answers.

“What was in the lip gloss?” she snarled. She did not like it when her whole life goes upside down, especially if was all because of a tube of lip gloss.

“Just a special potion I concocted,” he mused, rounding himself so he faced the lift doors.

The lift was going surprisingly slow, but she noted that there were no other buttons pushed. So this prisoner was also on his way to Level Ten. He also liked to play with potions.

Wait.

Their parole case.

“Eddie Carmichael?”

He turned his head so that he could see her in his peripheral vision. The grin was still on his face. “At your service.”

“And the potion did what?” Draco seethed, finally joining in the conversation.

“Oh, just makes someone a little more - how do you say - amenable to sexual advances.”

“You’re joking,” she rasped. Her heart was thumping in her chest. It was going faster than she believed it should. She was having a heart attack. There was no air going into her lungs, she couldn’t breathe.

“Hermione, breathe,” Draco soothed, now standing directly in front of her. He had his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them in a pacifying manner. His nose was practically touching hers, and all she could see was the specks of blue in his grey eyes. “Breathe.”

She took a deep breathe.

“Now let it go.”

She exhaled. And inhaled. And exhaled.

“Slowly.”

And paused, then inhaled. Pause. Exhaled. She used the rest of the time they had in the lift to calm down, listening to Draco seethe at the man they were about to take to court. The man was a Ravenclaw, but he sure was an dunderhead. Attacking the barrister who held your freedom in their hands. Idiot.

“Is there a counter-potion?”

“No.” 

She grabbed Draco’s fist before it could get any momentum. It wouldn’t do for him to punch the man. She just hoped he’d realise he could take his anger out on the man in court, and get him sentenced to Azkaban.

“Just no? You do realise that Miss Granger and I are all that is keeping you from your freedom, right?” She knew Draco was smart, and was glad that he came to the same conclusion as she. His fingers loosened, and he instead threaded his between hers, holding her hand, rubbing his thumb on her’s to keep calm. Her or him, she wasn’t sure. But it was working for both of them.

Eddie gulped, finally realising his mistake. It might’ve been smart to save the confrontation for after but he pretty much guaranteed he wouldn’t be let out back into society.

“Depending on when she last used it, it would take less than eighteen hours to pass through her system.”

Draco looked back at her, questioning her with his eyes. She knew what he was asking and she mentally calculated when it would be out of her system. If it wasn’t already gone, it would be soon. She nodded.

“Level Nine, Department of Mysteries.”

“You’ll pay for this,” Draco promised, shoving past him and leading Hermione down the stairs that led to Courtroom Ten.

* * *

Hermione had to think.

Well, she was already thinking. When was she not?

But this changed things.

She sat at the barrister table, letting Draco handle everything - as she had originally intended - and just played with the emerald. Was this who she was? Did she want this? Or was it all the potions doing? She had started to use the potion the day of the Halloween party. But was that enough time for it to hit her blood stream? She enjoyed herself that evening, she couldn’t lie. It was the days that followed that she was unhappy with. And that was when the potion was in her, and there was a continuing supply going into her during the week as she kept using the blasted stuff.

Ugh. If Harry knew he’d tell her off for not checking.

She was becoming laxed, apparently, and that wouldn’t do. All packages should have been thoroughly checked. Instead, she just opened the box _thinking_ it was from a past client and immediately used the lip gloss, no second thought that it could be poisoned or have been diluted with a potion.

She really hoped Harry never heard about this. Or Ron. She would never hear the end of this. She might have to keep it from Ginny too. Girl had a big mouth and then all the Weasleys would know and Hermione would just be permanently beet red in embarrassment.

Not to mention, she had absolutely _no idea_ what to do in regards to Draco. She glanced at him in the corner of her eye. He sat next to her, and he had his hand on her knee, squeezing it every now and then, in what she thought was meant to be a comforting gesture, but as it trailed under her skirt. She knew better. She held her breath as he fiddles with her knickers, barely grazing her clit, just keeping her on edge.

She mentally growled. She needed to focus on something else less she embarrass herself. She watched Zacharais Smith - another solicitor at Anthony’s firm - was pacing in front of the chained chair that Eddie Carmichael - _the git_ \- sat in. While the Wizarding World had made strides in the legal system as to allow solicitors to represent the defense and the people - instead of just a Wizengamot member questioning the defendant - they kept the drama of the chained chair in the middle of the ampitheatre. 

The defense had tried to paint a pretty picture of a young man who wanted to make amends for his mistakes. He wanted to find work in Potion Research and use his extensive knowledge for the betterment of the world.

Draco was tearing it apart. Using what they had learned on the ride down the lift to his advantage. She was impressed with him. While this was not the first case that they had worked on together, it showed how capable he was. She looked at his notes and realised that he had scrapped everything that he prepared prior to today. 

“So you no longer deal with illegal potions? And remember you are under oath to speak the truth, or risk perjury.”

Carmichael cleared his throat, and Hermione grimaced. If he really thought he could lie right now.

“Yes, I no longer deal with illegal potions.”

She was flummoxed. Who in the hell did he think he was? Slipping potions that could be considered a rape drug onto unsuspecting victims. She was going to kill him. Before she could jump up and object, Draco was fast enough to redirect the questioning.

“Would you say that you no longer handle questionable potions?”

Draco was fast and smart. Hermione liked that about him. He was beyond flexible and Hermione wondered if that transcended into the bedroom. She quickly chided herself, she still had a moral dilemma in regards to how much the potion affected her feelings for the man.

Carmichael took several moments to collect himself before finally responding, “Only questionable in that they haven’t been tested for mass production.”

“And what nature have some of these potions been?”

The defendant gulped once more. Hermione hoped he was pissing in his pants. The man deserved to be embarrassed for being stupid enough to essentially hand his confession over right before trial. She shook her head. _And this guy was Sorted into Ravenclaw?_

“Enhancements and compression of certain aspects of one’s personality.” Carmichael fidgeted in the chair. It was clear to everyone that he was not telling the whole truth, just saying enough to get away with it.

“Would any of these affect any sexual aspect of a person?” Draco smirked. 

Carmichael was sweating, beads falling down his forehead. He pulled at his collar before responding, “Yes.”

“Please elaborate.”

It was easy to tell when he knew he had lost, and Hermione lost interest. The man was not going to see the light of day anytime soon, and that was fine with her. Draco could handle it so there was no point to worry about it.

What she did need to worry about was, did she want this? Was this really her? She imagined that the collar had a longer chain and then pulled the emerald so she could examine it closely. She licked her lips while playing with the necklace. Growing up, she never thought she needed a man to make her feel good about herself. But, with Draco, with him being so dominating, it just made her feel free. She could feel the desire he had for her, and that wasn’t something she could compare to any past lovers. 

But to be treated as a possession. Could she do that?

It was one thing to play in the bedroom, but to have a collar that proclaimed her his to the rest of the world just seemed so demeaning.

Is this what she wanted?

“Hermione?”

She looked up into the concerned face of Draco. She glanced around the room and saw that it was now empty. She took a deep breath. “Did we win?”

He nodded, cupping her cheek. “Are you okay?”

Hermione nodded. Thought about it, then shook her head. “No, I’m not okay. Everything. It wasn’t real. And then when you knew it wasn’t real, you still tried. No, I’m not okay.” She wasn’t going to cry. Yes, she was having a personal identity crisis that she thought she had solved in the past week, but it was all a potions fault. A tear fell down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away.

“Hermione?”

She sighed, but raised her arms so her hands were behind her neck. She imagined the necklace as it was before she put it on that morning and untied the ribbon. “I don’t think I can do this, Draco,” she whispered, handing it back to him. 

As fast as she could, to avoid letting Draco argue, she ran out of Courtroom Ten and rushed back to the firm.

Before she could lock herself into her own office with Roger playing guard, she whisked away for drinks by the ladies of the office. The firm did good in court today.


	17. Chapter 17

Hermione didn’t really feel up for celebrating. She felt incomplete, like a hole was in her heart. She would catch herself readying to cry and would mentally shake sense into herself. It had been a week. She had only known it was Draco for a day. A hole in her heart? Who was she? Merope Gaunt?

It had been more than eighteen hours, that was for sure, so the potion was clear out of her system. She had drank as much water as she could in attempt to flush it out quicker, but now girly drink after girly drink was pushed in front of her. 

She was halfway through her third.

They had been there for _maybe_ an hour.

“Are you okay?” Tracey questioned, eyeing the two empty glasses in front of the witch.

“Just dandy,” Hermione replied, swatting her away with her hand. Couldn’t she be left alone?

“Sure?” her co-worker asked, taking the empty seat on her right.

 _So much for being alone_ , she rolled her eyes, happy to note that Tracey was trying to flag down a waitress.

When Tracey turned back to her possibly question her, Hermione beat her to the punch. “How was your case?”

“Oh!” Tracey clapped, much to Hermione’s amusement. “The case was thrown out of court for being ridiculous. Which we all knew would happen.”

Both girls scoffed.

“The ‘reconnaissance mission’,” she used her fingers to air quote, “was a success in that they found several pure-blood women also working at the club.”

“Really?”

“Yup,” Tracey popped her lips on the P. 

They were quiet for a few minutes, each in their own thoughts when the seat to her left was pulled away from the table. Hermione turned to see the person she least wanted to see make himself comfortable next to her. “Tracey, Theo is looking for you,” he drawled.

Tracey’s cheeks reddened but she didn’t let it stop her. She hugged Hermione and pushed through the crowd.

“Hermione.” He placed a tumbler of what she believed to be Firewhiskey in front of him. He rolled a finger around the brim, looking her in the eye.

“Draco,” she sipped the remainder of her watered down fruity drink, avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, no longer rolling a finger, but placing his hand atop hers.

She stared at where their hands touched. He felt the tingle go up her arm. 

“I shouldn’t have done what I did in the courtroom today. Not only was it unprofessional, but after the revelations you had, it was uncalled for.”

She felt his hand brush away the tear that she couldn’t hold back. When another tear fell, and a sob broke from her, he pulled her into a hug. She cried into his shoulder, clenching at his jumper, as if his very presence was the only thing keeping her together.

“Shh,” he soothed, running his hands up and down her back. “Everything will be alright.”

“But, I wanted to be with you,” she cried.

“I want to be with you too,” he said, pushing her away just enough that he could rest his forehead on hers. She could see his sincerity and she was again mesmerized by the blue specks in his grey eyes.

“You want a different kind of relationship, Draco,” she sighed, letting go and trying to sit as far away from him as she could.

“I’ll try for you, Hermione. We went on that date last month and other than the Astoria debacle, nothing would have stopped me from pursuing you further.”

“I just don’t know.” 

His rebuttal was cut off when several of their co-workers joined them at the table, forcing her to sit closer to him.

“Thanks, Draco,” Theo raised his drink in a toast, picking up on the melancholy mood that they had interrupted. 

Hermione tried to smile for them, she didn’t want to bring them down. Yet, she knew her eyes were a little red-rimmed. She weakly smiled at the others, but kept her eyes on her clasped hands on the table.

“You okay?” Tracey whispered from her side. 

Hermione looked up at her and shook her head.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head again, not really wanting to say anything. Deep down, she wanted to give Draco a try, but could she do it?

“So when you two going to finally go out?”

Leave it to Blaise to break the tension like that.

“What?” She and Draco gaped together.

“We were all thinking it. Been thinking it for months. Seriously thought you two would have been well on your way on a relationship by now if not for that stupid Astoria incident last month. Lost me a good bag of Galleons, you two did. But it’s alright, I got Malcolm back for it, ruining all his chances with Miss Allaway until this week.” Blaise’s smile looked evil, the amount of glee he was exuding was something only a man of mischief could achieve.

“What are you talking about?” Draco demanded.

“We’ve placed bets on you two,” Theo replied, without a care for the dark cloud hovering over his friend.

“You did what?” Hermione shouted, slamming her hands on the table. That was uncalled for. First a potion affects her libido and now her co-workers were playing with her love life? What was next? The Ministry demand she get married and have kids?

“The sexual tension between you two is so thick, it rivals the Weasel’s intelligence.”

Draco scoffed and Hermione scowled at Blaise. That was one of her best friends. She turned and glared at Draco before smacking him in the arm. “That’s my best friend!”

Draco raised his hands in front of him in a placating way, showing he surrendered.

“Yeah, if you’re going to date her, you can’t go make fun of her friends, no wonder you two still haven’t hooked up.” 

The pair looked at Theo and then stared at the table, both their cheeks pink.

“By Circe, you’ve hooked up already?” Tracey’s eyes went wide, drawing the attention of the other two males at the table. 

“And you decided not to anymore?” Blaise asked, incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It’s complicated,” they both mumbled. 

Everyone at the table snorted.

“It’s always complicated. Just go fuck it out.” 

“Must you always be so crude, Blaise?” Theo scolded the man, but went back to his drink, placing one of his arms around Tracey’s shoulder.

Hermione eyed the action and wondered if that was something Draco would do with her. Apparently Malcolm’s machinations had ruined their first date a month ago. Prior to Astoria causing a scene, she and Draco were having a lively conversation and she knew she wanted to take him back to her place. 

She shyly glanced at him in the corner of her eye. Could they go back to that?

“Draco, take the girl out. Both of you, go,” Blaise shooed them with his hands. “Skedaddle!”

“Do people even say that anymore?” Hermione mused while Draco helped her out of her seat. She took a deep breath, she could do this. Maybe there could be something for them.

* * *

The only place that they thought they could be alone to talk and have drinks was either Draco’s or Hermione’s place, so she took him back to her’s. 

“Make yourself at home,” she gestured with her arm, after letting him into her flat. She walked down the hall to change into a comfortable pair of pajamas - sweats and a tank top. When she walked back outside, she found the man in her study, eyeing the bulletin board that she had worked on for the past week.

“You sure were busy,” he chuckled.

“Honestly, it drove me mad.” She pulled him by the arm out of her study, her cheeks tinged scarlett, back towards the living room.

“Wine?” 

“Sure,” he replied, seating himself on a couch.

Hermione returned with two glasses and a bottle. She sat next to him, with a good distance between them, and filled a glass for him before preparing one for herself.

“So,” he started.

“So...”

“This is bloody awkward,” Draco looked at her then back at his glass.

Hermione sipped at her drink but nodded nonetheless. It was rather awkward. How is that he could have her begging for his cock and have no problem, but sitting on the couch trying to have a simple conversation was difficult?

“You didn’t know it was me that whole time?” He finally asked, gulping at his wine.

“I didn’t. You were always at the top of my list, but I had to eliminate everyone to be sure. It wasn’t something I could just approach anyone with, you know.”

“Was that why you ended up at Smitten Kitten on Thursday?” He scooted closer to her.

“Mhmm, I was desperate. I needed answers and then I ran into you and Theo. It all worked out in the end, I say.”

“I’m sorry if you think I took advantage of you. I never meant to,” he mumbled, placing his now empty glass on the coffee table in front of her.

Hermione bit her lip, put her nearly empty glass next to his, and scooted on the couch so that she was resting her head on his shoulder. Draco wrapped his arm around her, and let her nestle into the crook of his arm.

“Did you know it was me?”

“Honest? I didn’t know for sure until Monday and you were blocking the soap. You have a one-of-a-kind arse, Granger. You should be proud.”

“Prick!” She smacked him on the chest, but smiled nonetheless. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wasn’t sure if it was something you wanted. I was pretty rough, you know. And that wasn’t how I imagined our first time together to be.”

“You’ve imagined our first time together?” She asked, pulling back so she could see his flushed face. She smiled.

“Yeah. Our date was going so well that one time, I was just thinking of how far you would let me go and what I would do if you let me.”

“That’s sweet,” she cooed before settling back into her spot. “Do you prefer it rough like the past two times? Or you want more, like possessing me?” She pressed her face into his chest, a little afraid of his answer.

“Hermione, I like you, I want to be with you and I’ll take what I can get. Yes, I like it rough, and yes, considering you my possession turns me on beyond anything, but in order for me to even have that, you have to be happy. And that’s what’s most important.” He tilted her chin so that she wasn’t hiding, and kissed her forehead.

“Honest?”

“Honest.”

“Draco,” Hermione meekly stated.

“Yeah?”

“Will you make love to me?”

She watched as Draco took a deep breath and she braced herself for the rejection, for him to push her off him so he could leave, but instead, he pulled her into his lap and kissed her deeply.

He wrapped one arm around her waist, and let his other hand bury into her hair. Hermione wrapped her legs around him, grinding into the very thick erection she could feel through his pants. Draco held her tightly and lifted them off the couch, making Hermione giggle. 

She was going to have sex again. With Draco Malfoy. No spanking involved.

As he walked them down the hallway, he would stop every few steps and press her against the wall, rub himself against her centre, then continue on his way. Hermione was on edge. She had been on edge since that morning. She lavished his neck, leaving her mark on him as they continued to the bedroom. 

He dropped her on the bed and began to undress. Hermione eyed him like he was steak. This boy was yummy personified. His pale skin, toned muscle frame, and _that cock_ was drool worthy. She closed her mouth to keep any from getting out, but she did pull off her blazer and singlet.

“Slytherin Green?”

“That’s not all,” she smirked.

“Oh?”

She shook her head, and helped him slip off her skirt. She planted her feet flat on her bed and raised her hips to let him pull it down her lithe legs.

“Oh,” he said quietly. 

She shyly looked up at him, not really afraid because she did know she was hot, and she knew he had liked her their last two times, but still a little apprehensive of him seeing her in her lingerie set. The last two times weren’t really the brightest of places, but the lust in his eyes rivaled that very morning. 

She went to roll a stocking off when his hand snatched her arm away. “Leave those on.”

“Hey, no telling me what to do,” Hermione pouted.

Draco crawled above her, kissing random points of her exposed skin. “I’m sorry.” He was above her, nestled between her legs. “You’re just so, I don’t have any words. And the stockings just add to it.” He nuzzled into her neck, licked her jaw, then finally, _finally_ , nibbled on her lips. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and he didn’t try to take control. He followed her moves, repeating things when she moaned, grinding into her. 

She hadn’t dry humped someone in years, and she didn’t want to think back on that. She used her toes to pull down his boxers, shocking him with her cold feet.

“Cold,” he chuckled, but unhooked her bra in the process. He laved each breast with plenty of attention before sliding her knickers down her legs. He kissed her calf, her knee, the inside of her left thigh, and let his breath graze her cunt. 

She wanted that, but she needed something else first. “Later,” she panted, pulling him up by his hair.

“Impatient, love?” he chuckled, but kissed her deeply once more.

“Mhmm,” she moaned, making to grab his cock and guide him into her. He let her, much to her happiness, and they both groaned with his first thrust.

She panted with each of his thrusts, it felt good, but not anything like it once was. She felt connected to him in a different level. Their lips never left the skin of the other. Mouths. Necks. Shoulders. It was all in the open, and it was definitely something different.

“Oh,” she moaned a final time when she reached climax. It was not too long afterwards that he followed her, falling to her side and pulling her in close so that her back was pressed to his front. He nibbled on her shoulder and Hermione smiled. Draco Malfoy liked to cuddle.

She giggled.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, peering over her shoulder, kissing her cheek before retreating back to the pillow.

“You. Unexpected.”

“Huh?”

“Cuddle.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The two laid there like that, holding each other. Hermione contemplated what had just happened while rubbing her hands along the arms holding her.

“Draco?”

“Mhmm?” He sounded sleepy and Hermione felt bad for waking him, but she really wanted to get this off her chest.

“Do you still have that choker?”

He coughed before answering, “Yeah, it’s in one of my pockets.”

“What would you say if I said I’d want to wear it, but only abide by the stipulations in the bedroom?” She asked, rolling over so that she faced him. She pressed her fingers on his creased brow, lightly kissing his jaw, hoping to entice him into agreeing. Maybe all of the previous week was the byproduct of a potion, but she knew she enjoyed it. And while what she and Draco just shared was special, she wasn’t someone to not want to liven things up often.

“I can live with that.”

“Good,” she stated before pushing him onto his back and straddling him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some random notes from the whole fic that I had saved.
> 
>  
> 
> \- The story title is from the song by Portishead.  
> \- Mr. Allaway is a not from the HP universe. I found the Scottish last name from a surname website and decided to use it.  
> \- Roger, her secretary/assistant/bitch boy, is Roger Davies. He is two years older than Hermione, a Ravenclaw, and was Fleur’s date the Yule Ball during GoF.  
> \- Madley & Baddock are actual last names pulled from the HP Universe. There was an Eleanor Branstone that started Hogwarts in 1994 and was sorted into Hufflepuff. She is mentioned in GoF.  
> \- Mediwizard/Mediwitch is the equivalent to a medic. Healers are the equivalent to doctors.  
> \- Healer Naumov does not exist in the HP universe. Naumov is a Bulgarian last name.  
> \- Mediwitch Eszes does not exist in the HP universe. Eszes is a Hungarian last name.  
> \- The whole Miss Allaway conference room conversation is pulled from episode 26 of Ally McBeal, which I was watching for research on the whole funny lawyer take. I had to include this conversation. It seemed hilarious, and it only got funnier.  
> \- The Gwydion is a fake hotel that I made up for the purposes of this fan fiction. Gwydion is a magician from Welsh mythology.  
> \- Smitten Kitten is an actual BDSM store. It came up when I googled “name for a BDSM sex shop.” I didn’t click on the link so I don’t know how good they are, but you never know.  
> \- Hermione’s costume:  
>   
> \- Draco’s costume:  
> 


End file.
